No Light in Your Bright Blue Eyes
by EmothicNerd
Summary: Brittany is diagnosed with terminal cancer, and Santana can do nothing but reminisce about their romance before the tragic event. A story about a love that will never die.
1. Early July 2016

"Good morning beautiful!" said the love of my life.

My raven hair a mess and my light blue tank top and darker blue booty shorts wrinkly and unattractive, I walked into the kitchen, feeling rather groggy this morning. It had been a long night – though a wonderful one of course – and I was exhausted. The beautiful blonde who was currently smiling her usual cheerful smile always had more energy than I did, so it was no surprise that she wasn't even the tiniest pinch of exhausted after last night. Was she even sore? God knows I was. Everywhere. Though my thighs were aching more than my womanhood.

The sex life of a married couple was always exciting, even for a couple who'd been married for three years. And the pain was so worth it.

"How do you always manage to get all happy the next morning?" I muttered as I leaned against the kitchen counter. I was always in a not-so-happy mood in the mornings. I wasn't a morning person.

The flawless woman I was married to, Brittany Lopierce, let out a tiny giggle as she turned away from me and continued making what smelled like eggs. She was definitely the cook in the family, I could hardly make toast without burning it.

Yeah, Lopierce. Weird last name, isn't it? Back when we were making the big ol' wedding plans, we thought it'd be cool to mash our last names together. Hyphening names was for losers.

"My name isn't Santana," she answered. She didn't even need to turn around for me to know she was smiling. It was rare to see her not smile.

"This is true," I said with a chuckle as I moved around the kitchen counter and sat on a chair. Even if I wasn't a morning person, Brittany always managed to brighten the beginning of my days by her presence. She always made me feel like the lovesick teenager I was in high school, just five years ago. I was living one of those annoyingly sappy romance films. And you know what? It was amazing.

Brittany removed the frying pan from the stove and began to serve breakfast. My mouth nearly watered at the sight she was creating – scrambled eggs, orange juice, toast, _bacon_ – it wasn't a special breakfast, but it was a Brittany Lopierce breakfast and it looked fucking delicious.

In a couple of minutes she prepared both our plates, and she placed them in front of me, then sitting on the chair next to mine. She purposely sat close. We had to be so close that our skin touched, it was law. Any space between us was just unacceptable. And I liked it. She was the only one who could make me blush under my tan skin. She was the only one who could make me nauseous with the butterflies that were flying wildly in my stomach. I loved her. I loved her so much.

"Breakfast is served," she sang, and she handed me a fork. I smiled at her, taking the fork, and happily dug into my food. I stuck a piece of egg into my mouth, letting the flavor flood all around my tongue. It wasn't too salty, which was just perfect. She was perfect.

"Delicious as always," I told her, and there was silence after that.

It was never an awkward silence with us. It was the silence of two wives who loved each other more than life itself having breakfast together. Most would say we were crazy for marrying so young. Hell, our parents though we were crazy. But we didn't care. Getting married at nineteen was the best damn decision of my life. We pulled through college together as the world's best couple since Brangelina. We were flawless. And both really fucking sexy.

"Mrs. Lopierce," I heard Brittany call. I looked up from my plate and stared into her sparkly gems.

"Other Mrs. Lopierce," I responded with a smile.

"You've been awake for twenty-seven minutes and you forgot to tell me something."

I chuckled, knowing what she was talking about. I shoved another piece of egg into my mouth and spoke as I chewed. "I've been awake for twenty-whatever minutes and _you _forgot to tell _me _something."

She looked down at her plate, a pink hue forming on her cheeks. She was so adorable when she blushed, I loved it. I could only imagine how retarded I looked with that hue on my face.

"I love you," she told me, looking up at me with her usual goofy smile. My heart skipped a beat at this, as if she hadn't told me that before. Every time felt like the first time she told me that, which was wonderful. It was just a constant reminder that nothing would bring us apart. We were invincible.

"I love you, too," I told her before shoving another piece of egg into my mouth. She laughed.

"It was sweet until you decided to eat right afterwards!"

I shrugged, regretting nothing. She playfully pushed me, making me laugh. I pushed her back as revenge. "How old are you again?" I teased.

"Not too young for you I would hope." Her face leaned in closer to mine, so our faces were barely an inch away. My face felt hot, but I couldn't help but smile back. I loved how she could be a child one minute and a seductress the next. It was pretty sexy, and totally rebuffed any claims of me being a psychological pedophile. Or something.

"That'd be illegal, now wouldn't it?" I purred, leaning in even closer so our foreheads touched, but not our lips. The heat on my face was traveling down my body to where the real treasure was, and I had a great urge to take her on the kitchen floor at that moment. It wasn't new to us, we must've had sex all over the house. It had been especially crazy when we were newlyweds. What? We were horny.

"I won't tell if you don't," she whispered, and she finally made the move of leaning fully in and lightly touching my lips with her own. The tiniest touch made my insides explode, and I wanted to pounce her right then and there.

It was kind of funny because our lips both tasted like eggs, and that wasn't the ideal flavor to taste on someone's lips, but we both looked past the eggy taste and just tasted each other. We both knew how we tasted, and we both loved the way the other one tasted.

We got a little more passionate as my fingers went up to her hair, clutching on as if it was going to fall out. I pulled her in for a rough kiss, and we both soon started to lose our breath. The taste of scrambled eggs was gone now and it was just us tasting us. It was delicious.

My eyes were closed as I savored the taste of my life, my kisses never ceasing. We could kiss for hours upon hours and be satisfied. I wished we would be able to just kiss for all eternity. My heart lit up like a beacon for her, and her heart lit up in response. Our hearts knew what they wanted. Perhaps it was time to take this some place else…

But before I could even think about moving, another strange taste entered my mouth.

It was metallic, like licking copper or something, and it seemed like a familiar taste like I had tasted it in my mouth before. It was salty too, and not in the good way like Brittany's eggs. I took some time to process this new foreign taste, and when I discovered it I almost gasped in Brittany's mouth.

Was that _blood_?

I immediately pulled away from Brittany, and my heart stopped beating at the sight of blood spread out around her mouth and streams of crimson liquid pouring out from her nostrils. My mouth dropped, and Brittany's usually sparkling eyes seemed to die down. She looked at me with a confused look, like she didn't notice that she was practically bleeding to death in front of me.

"San, what's wrong?" she asked. I saw her eyes move down to where my mouth was, and her eyes widened. There was blood on my mouth too, it seemed.

Skinny fingers went up to her nose, touching it lightly and bringing it up to her eyes. She gasped at the sight of blood, and she went back and wiped her entire mouth with her hand to look at it and make sure she wasn't going crazy. Her mouth remained open in shock, unsure of what to do or say. Her eyes went back to me, and the fear in her eyes shattered my heart.

"San…" I expected her to finish what she was starting, but the next few seconds gave me a heart attack.

She turned snow-white pale at a frighteningly fast rate, and her hand dropped down to her lap. Her eyes were completely dead right now, and it wasn't until I saw her falling back that I even knew she was fainting. Her eyes rolled back into her head as if she was dropping dead. I tried to dive and catch her, but it was too late. She had fallen right on her head on the hard kitchen floor.

I pushed her chair out of my way and kneeled down beside her, lightly tapping her cheek to try and wake her up.

"Britt?" I called her. I tapped on her cheek a little more. "Britt wake up!" I took her by the shoulders and started to shake her, but to no avail. The scary part was that her nose was still bleeding, so much that it was started to make a small puddle on the kitchen tiles. I was shaking like mad, what was a supposed to do? I was never faced with an emergency like this. I looked around the kitchen for something that could help me.

There was a rag wrapped around the handle of the refrigerator, so I practically flew towards it. I ran to Brittany and placed the rag on her nose in hopes that it would stop bleeding.

"Britt, c'mon please wake up," I begged. If she was dead I wouldn't know what I would do.

The blood was starting to come through the rag, which I didn't even think could be possible. No, I couldn't help her on my own. Someone who was an expert at this sort of thing needed to see her. I left the rag on her nose and ran for the home phone, dialing 911.

What the fuck happened? She was perfectly fine two minutes ago.

* * *

><p>"The fuck kind of cancer we talking here, Mike?"<p>

I wanted to cry. I wanted to pretend none of this was real. But as my old high school friend told me there was a high probability that my wife had cancer, my eyes were just burning to let out tears. This was all a dream. A really sucky dream.

"I didn't say anything was definite, Santana. I'm just saying that she needs to be tested a little more. Cancer's just a possibility."

I bit my lip and looked away. A possibility? Why did I get this feeling that he was lying to me, that it was definite? A possibility just gave me a false hope that she didn't actually have cancer, that she was actually going to be okay. Yet I fell into his trap. I prayed to whatever God there was that she would be okay. He wouldn't take my soul mate away from me, would He?

"Well find out as soon as possible," I told Mike, my voice shaking a little. He could seen the pain on my face, and I felt as though he was regretting his decision of giving me such false hope. But he didn't say anything about it, nodding instead.

"You should probably get back to Brittany. She might wake up soon," he told me. And with that, he walked down the hallway.

I didn't go into Brittany's room immediately. I stood there just incase I was going to break down. My eyes did begin to water, but no tears poured out. I wanted to sob, so badly. But I didn't want Brittany to see me like this. I took a few minutes to compose myself, and every time I thought I would be okay I ended up being on the verge of tears once more. Damn it, I thought I was stronger than this! After what felt like twenty minutes, I assured myself I would be okay, and I finally walked into Brittany's room.

Brittany was awake, to my surprise.

Her eyes were baggy with exhaustion, and her hair was a mess. She still looked like the most beautiful person to me in the world, and she didn't need makeup or the perfect hair for it. The only thing that bothered me were how dead her eyes looked. The usual sparkles that lived in those blue gems of her were no longer there, like she was already dying.

No, dying was a horrible term to use. She wasn't dying.

"Hey San," she greeted me weakly. The only other noise was the sound of the EKG beeping at a stable pace. At least her heart was okay.

I forced a smile on my face and sat at the edge of her hospital bed. She looked so different being hooked up with an IV and pretty much looking like something out of Grey's Anatomy. Oh that show. We would watch all of the seasons over and over again. Shame it ended.

"Hi Britt-Britt," I greeted back, and I took her IV-hooked hand, wrapping my fingers around it. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a muffin," she muttered.

She was still the silly girl who almost no one understood in high school. "A muffin?"

"An ugly cupcake," she told me with a smile.

I laughed. Her sense of humor was so innocent and adorable. Sometimes I asked myself why she chose me out of all people to be hers. We were complete opposites. I was a bitch and she was a sweetheart. I was salt and she was sugar. I was Voldemort and she was Harry Potter.

"You're an adorable cupcake," I told her, lightly squeezing her hand lovingly.

"Thanks. So why did our make out session turn into an episode of Vampire Diaries?" she asked. I laughed some more. She almost made me forget that there was something wrong with her.

But I had to tell her, and that made my heart ache. My smile eventually faded, and I looked away from her, a pained expression on my face. She knew something was up, and she squeezed my hand back to prod me into telling her.

"San what's wrong?" she asked, and when I looked at her she was frowning. No, I couldn't have her frown, it was just going to make everything worse. I could feel my eyes water, and all that time preparing myself for this would be for nothing.

But I cursed myself as a tear actually escaped my eye. Damn, that wasn't supposed to happen. Now I really had to tell her.

"Um, Mike said that…uh…" I couldn't even bring myself to tell her.

She sat up in her bed and leaned over to wipe the tear from my face. I shook my head. I felt like my heart was stretching itself until it tore. Maybe it was best to not have a heart at this point. It was hurting already and it wasn't even confirmed that she had cancer. What the fuck kind of cancer would it be anyway? Mike still hadn't answer my question. Wait…what if he was leaving that detail out on purpose?

"Mike thinks that you might…um…" I took a deep breath to regain my strength. "He did some tests and just needs to look into them and stuff. He says it might not be nothing but just in case, he was just…he has to check to see if you might have cancer or not." And with that I looked away.

There was silence after that. Usually the silence between us was something I was comfortable with, but this was a new kind of silence. A painful one. One that I wanted to be broken. I wanted her to say something, anything. Her hand felt so distant from mine even though they were connected. My heart was lighting for hers, but I received no response. Oh God, what was going on in her mind.

Finally, she spared me more pain and answered.

"It's not definite San. Don't cry."

I shook my head in disagreement, looking back at her.

"But what if it is Britt? I can't…I can't live without you. What if you really do have…" I couldn't even say cancer without wanting to cry.

She leaned in and pecked my cheek, and my dying heart pulsed with undying love once more. She gave me an assuring smile, and for a moment I honestly though everything would be okay. She didn't have cancer. Brittany Susan Pierce would never get cancer.

"You're such a pessimist, Mrs. Lopierce," she teased. I almost forgot that she was still weak from the incident that morning. I almost forgot that she must've been in pain on the inside.

She could've been thinking the same thing I was but wouldn't show it. Like she was trying to protect me.

"I'm sorry, other Mrs. Lopierce," I responded with a half-hearted smile. She leaned in once more, this time kissing me gently on the lips. My heart was temporarily cured of the hurt it was enduring. Her kisses could cure anything. Hell, perhaps they could even cure cancer. How amazing would that be?

Just like that morning, we got more heated in our kissing until I ended up on top of Brittany. This time it was her fingers that were in my hair, although it felt awkward because the wire of the IV was attached to her hand. As long as I didn't disconnect though, we would be okay. I felt a little warm and drenched below the belt, and I began to crave for what we had just the other night. It was probably horrible timing since we were currently in the hospital, but I didn't care. And neither did she. Hospital or not, we were two married women with severe needs.

And I was about to slide my hand somewhere until I heard someone knocking the door.

"Brittana, disperse!" I heard a familiar soft voice speak. Annoyed, I removed my lips from Brittany and looked at the source of the voice. At the doorway was the petite blonde that I'd known for an eternity, my dearest Quinn.

She was scowling, and I almost wanted to laugh at how professional she looked. Her long blonde locks were tied back in a golden ponytail, and her bright blue scrubs made her look a character on Grey's Anatomy. I almost wanted to pinch her cheeks.

"Go away Fabray," I growled, though I totally meant it in a loving way.

She walked full into the room, and up to me and Brittany. "No sex in the hospital you two," she told us firmly. She grabbed my arm and yanked me off the bed, which pissed me off.

"Such a cockblock Quinn, shit," I muttered, and she shook her head and looked at Brittany.

"Brittany, you're very weak right now. I think sex is the last thing you should be doing," Quinn scolded.

I rolled my eyes, but Brittany nodded in understanding. "Sorry Quinn, it won't happen again."

A what-the-fuck expression appeared on my face as I looked at Brittany. Why the hell was Brittany agreeing with Quinn? She was supposed to be on my side!

"How would you like it if I forbade you and Sam from having sex?" I challenged.

She gave me her famous Fabray grin, the one that made me want to slap her on the spot. "I'm not the one with a loved one in a hospital bed, now am I?"

I raised my hand to slap her, but she twirled around me with a laugh. Great, she was our assigned nurse? I didn't want a cockblock as a nurse, no matter how much I loved her.

Her face suddenly turned serious, which would've made me laugh had I not wanted to slap her right now. "No sex you two." She pointed at the both of us, her eyes narrowed. Thank God she didn't live with us, I would be scared shitless of her walking in on me and Brittany all the time.

"Yeah, yeah. Fuck off Quinn. Tell Sam to take the stick out your ass when you get home," I growled grudgingly.

She playfully blew at kiss at me, waved bye to Brittany, and disappeared out the door.

I let out a frustrated sigh and took a seat by Brittany. "What a cockblock."

Brittany giggled and placed her hand on top of mine. "It's okay. We can wait."

I rolled my eyes. I didn't want to wait. I wanted it right now. But if Brittany wanted to wait then fine, I would only do whatever she asked me to do. I would do anything for her.

In sickness and in health.


	2. Mid October 2011

**Hey guys! Ashley here. I'm happy to see that some of you guys are liking this story! I would just like to apologize in advance of how sad this tale is going to be. I'M SO SORRY ;A; but yeah, this chapter's a little cute so I figured I'd bring you all up just to bring you down again. Because I'm horrible like that :I. The BreadstiX scene here is based on the 3x04 "Pot O' Gold" episode, but not entirely. I pulled some stuff from the show, but just know that this story is completely AU (but this is FanFiction, everything is AU anyways lulz). So, enjoy! :)**

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><p>I fell asleep that night, in Brittany's hospital bed. She spooned me, wrapping her arm around my waist, and I felt warm and safe in her embrace. I found myself pulled into the dream world, pulled into flashbacks of events that brought warmth to my heart.<p>

* * *

><p>"Are we dating?"<p>

Brittany looked up from her spaghetti and meatballs in my direction, making my heart jump and my face warm. Okay, that question was really blunt and out of nowhere, and I sort of blurted it out. But it was a question that had been eating at me for weeks – months even, ever since we lost nationals. It was now a new school year, and I was still unsure if Brittany and I were dating.

We had been through so much. We started off as just the best of friends that liked to occasionally hook up. I was fine with our relationship. At least, I thought I did until I started feeling weird about her somewhere in junior year. I eventually found myself confessing my love for her, something I realized was the reason for all my hate and anger for everyone. But then I was forced to watch her be with Stubbles McCripplepants for months, even after I told her I loved her. She insisted she loved me back, but I was pissed when she wouldn't break up with fucking Four-Eyes. I can't say I wasn't ecstatic when the pair broke up, but that was because the dickhead called Brittany stupid. He was lucky I didn't push his wheeling ass down a bunch of stairs.

But now Brittany and I were together. Right? Ugh, that was what confused me. We never officially said we were girlfriends. We just continued to act the way we usually act, just with feeling involved. How funny, I used to think it was best with no feelings involved. But I was so wrong. It was way better with feelings.

"What do you mean?" Brittany asked me with a confused expression on her face.

I looked away, suddenly finding myself too shy to explain. What the hell, since when was I so shy? Damn Brittany, always bringing out the worst in me. Or perhaps it was the best in me. Whatever it was, Brittany was the only one who could pull it out. It was like she had some kind of superpower or something.

"I mean…us. Is there an us? Like, are we…girlfriends?" I finally looked at her, her sparkling sapphire eyes full of life.

Her thin pink lips extended into a smile, and my face felt even hotter. I must've been blushing like crazy, which was gross to me because I didn't usually blush. Unless I was around Brittany of course. Oh man, my stomach was feeling sick because of those stupid butterflies.

Her hand slithered over to mine which was resting by my untouched plate, and her long skinny fingers touched my caramel skin affectionately. The air was feeling pretty heavy at the moment, and I was pretty sure I was going to suffocate and die. But if I died I would never find out the answer to my question. I needed to know, damn it.

"I thought we've been together all the time silly," she told me, stroking the top of my hand with her thumb. I bit my lip, wanting to smile but I couldn't seem to. My heart was trying to rip out of my chest, and my ears were getting deaf from the pounding sound of war drums. Her answer was exactly what I wanted to hear, but my body was going insane because it wasn't sure how to react. My love for her increased greatly, I knew. But just how happy I was to hear her answer?

"Well…um…" Fuck, I couldn't even speak. I looked away in hopes that I could remember how to speak English by not looking at her, but it still didn't work. Damn it!

I heard her giggle. "Sannie, we're girlfriends. Relax."

I looked at her, my eyes suddenly watery. Her smile faded as she saw my eyes moistening, and she was afraid that I was hurt by something she said.

"Why are you crying?" she asked me with a frown, her grip on my hand tightening.

Finally I smiled, and her frown straightened out.

"I'm just…really happy," I told her. I wrapped both my hands around her one hand, and I wanted to kiss it. I really did. But I wasn't out yet, and I didn't want publicly out myself just by kissing the hand of my wonderful girlfriend. People in Lima were such homophobic bitches. I wasn't ready to come out yet, and probably would never be ready until college. Lesbians went to college all the time right? At least I'd be more accepted in whatever college I was planning to go to. Though honestly I wasn't even sure where to go for college.

"I'm happy too," Brittany said with a slight nod, her smile even bigger. There was a pink hue on her cheeks, the kind that I always found so adorable. A tiny laugh escaped my lips, and I released her hand before I really did end up kissing it.

"San?"

"Yeah Britt?"

Her smile went away and instead she bit her lip and looked away, like she was afraid to ask me something. I blinked, taking a guess on what she was about to say but waiting for her to spit it out. She should've known to never be afraid to ask me or tell me anything, I didn't blow up at her like I did with most people.

"Why don't, y'know, tell other people about…us? And you, mostly you…it's not good to keep all this inside." Her thumb lightly tapped on the table as she spoke, and she still didn't make eye contact with me.

"Britt, I told you already…"

She nodded, but then shook her head. "I know, but…we're seniors now. It's not going to matter if people find out this year, right?"

I shook my head in response. I told her countless times that I wasn't ready, and if she was going to push this then it was going to be a problem. Did she not see what happened to Kurt when he was outed? Years of bullying and being made fun of, he was the ultimate loser at McKinley. That was what would happen to me if people found out. I'd be damned if I let that happen to me in my last year of high school. That was not the way to go out with a bang.

"Britt, this is our last year. Our last year to be what we've made people believe we've been our entire school lives. I'm not ready, okay? But I promise when we graduate I'll come out to my family, and then we can be as open and free when we're both in college, okay?"

She frowned, which made me frown. How was she not happy with my answer? Graduation was only a few months away! It took years for us to be what we were now, she could manage a few more months. Unless she was frowning for a different reason.

"I don't think I'll even go to college, San."

I tilted my head to the side and gave her a what-the-fuck-are-you-talking-about expression. Who was this Brittany? The Brittany I knew was optimistic about everything, so optimistic I sometimes felt I would vomit out sunshine just from being in her presence. But she was putting herself down?

"Brittany Susan Pierce, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

She finally looked at me, and even though those beautiful sparkles were having at it in her gorgeous gems, there was sorrow in there somewhere, hiding behind the sparkles. No, my Britt-Britt wasn't going to think like this. She was going to college, and I was going to make sure of it.

"I'm already starting to fail all my classes, San. I might never even graduate."

I couldn't say I was outstanding with my grades either, but both my parents were rich so I didn't really care. I didn't have to push myself education-wise if my parents were able to support me if I failed. But Brittany's parents weren't my parents, there was no way they'd be able to pay for a super expensive college. Even then, though, if Brittany failed all her classes she wouldn't be able to get that diploma.

"Get a tutor," I found myself saying. A tutor? Who the hell in McKinley was selfless enough to help someone else?

"A tooter?" Brittany blinked in confusion. "San, I only did cocaine once and that was because I thought it was sugar. Plus, how is that supposed to help me?"

I covered my mouth and let out a laugh, completing disregarding the fact that she just confessed to me that she snorted cocaine one, and shook my head. "No silly, a tutor. Like, a person who helps you with your school stuff."

Brittany looked away for a moment, as if deep in thought. I sat there, looking at her thinking, wondering what the hell was so complicated about getting a tutor. Then again, it was Brittany, and she was simpler than most people. But that was okay, I loved her the way she was. She was what was right about this stupid, cruel, disgusting world. She was the light at the end of the tunnel. People would kill to be as happy and innocent as she was.

She finally looked at me with widened eyes. "That's a great idea San! But it has to be someone smart."

I rolled my eyes. "Well duh, getting a stupid tutor would do nothing for you."

She tapped her chin with her finger, looking through all the possibilities of a tutor. "I could always ask Mike, or Tina, or…"

She was definitely naming them because they were Asian, which made me want to laugh. I raised a hand to silence her, and she obeyed, her thin lips forming a smile.

"Just go to school tomorrow and see who you want," I told her, and she nodded in agreement.

I think we were pretty much finished with dinner, even though I didn't really touch my food. I looked for the waitress so she could give us the check, and when she was in my view I made a hand gesture that look similar to writing a check so she could get the hint. The old hag got the idea and went off to go get it, and when I looked back at Brittany there was a confused look on her face.

"Aren't we going to dine n' dash?" she asked.

Usually we did dine n' dash, and it was a wonder how the hell we got away with it every time. It was the same waitress every time, too. Maybe it was an old lady thing, forgetting everything ever five seconds. What was that called? Al Zimers? No that sounded more like a person, how the hell do you…okay just forget it.

I smiled at her. "The man always pays on the date."

She giggled, and it made me let out a short chuckle.

"Mister Lopez?" Brittany giggled some more.

"That doesn't mean I'm the butch one though, just so you know." I pointed a defensive finger at her, but I still smiled. Me, Santana Lopez, a butch? I would never chop all my hair off, my name wasn't Quinn Fabray. Speaking of Quinn though, she turned into a fucking psychopath this year. Oh well.

"I love you, Santana."

My heart once more tried to rip out of my chest, and the heat was not only on my face but all over my body. Especially my sweet spot. It was weird to be turned on after having someone tell me they loved me, but it was Brittany Pierce, for God's sake. I would be worried if I wasn't turned on in her presence.

Her smile stretched, and that must've been because my face was so red it covered every inch of caramel skin. I gave her a pearly white smile, and told her what both she and me wanted to hear.

"I love you too Brittany."

But as I said this, there was something in the back of my mind. A voice, a voice that sounded a lot like Brittany's.

_"Tell them about us,"_ it spoke. _"You're not ashamed of us are you? You're ready, aren't you? Love, love, love. You love me, why not tell the world?"_

_"I'm not ready,"_ I told the voice. _"Britt, I'm not ready. Someday, I promise. Give me time. Please."_

Please.

* * *

><p>I woke up suddenly to complete darkness. What time was it? The only noises heard were the sounds of breathing from both Brittany and me, and the beeping of the EKG. Stable heartbeat, good. The last thing I wanted was for her to die while I was in her embrace.<p>

She was going to be okay, I knew she was. She was Brittany Pierce, the cure of any ailment. Her smile could stop world hunger, her dancing could resurrect the dead. She was the one bit of happiness in this world. She didn't have cancer, she couldn't. Mike was wrong, so wrong. He was going to do those tests, and they were going to come out negative. My wife was not sick, she was as healthy as anyone could be. I told myself this, I assured myself this.

So then why did I suddenly to sobbing silently to myself?


	3. Mid July 2016

**Hey guys! Ashley here. So this chapter has borderline smut in it, and it's the first time I'm doing this sort of stuff so please don't make fun of me! Enjoy! :)**

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><p>"Do we seriously have to watch this?" I asked, a bit annoyed at the film we were watching.<p>

It was movie night in the Lopierce household, and we did what teenagers would usually do and sat on the couch together with the biggest bowl of popcorn possible. Of course, we sat as close together as possible since the best part of a movie night was what happened after the movie.

Brittany giggled, knowing exactly about how annoyed I was with her film choice. She knew I didn't like the film, but she chose it anyway. She liked to be spiteful with me, and in a way I loved it but I also hated it at the same time.

"What's wrong with The Notebook?" she asked me.

I let out a sigh. "It sucks. And it's completely predictable."

"How? I didn't think there was anything predictable about the two of them dying in the end."

Dying. That was not a term I was comfortable with right now. It'd been days since the nosebleed incident, and I'd been waiting in anguish for the results of those tests. Every time the phone rang, I died. What were those test results going to say? I didn't want to think of the worst that could happen, but I couldn't help it. If Brittany turned out to be sick, I wasn't sure what I would do.

"It's totally gay, and that's coming from a gay person," I muttered, and Brittany laughed. "Titanic at least made more sense."

She gasped in surprise. "What? How could you say that! Jack dying was the worst thing ever!"

I shook my head. "Yeah but it was the message after the movie. That Rose never…" That Rose never stopped loving Jack even though he was long gone. Oh God, my mind was invaded with dark thoughts at the moment. What if Brittany and I were living Titanic? No, no those tests were going to come out negative. I had to stop being so damn pessimistic. It wasn't good for my health. Yet my eyes started watering at just the thought of losing Brittany.

Brittany could tell what I was thinking, and she rested her head on my shoulder.

"Mrs. Lopierce, what did I say about negative thinking?" she whispered.

I bit my lip and fought back the tears, the salt burning my eyeballs. No, I couldn't cry in front of her, I didn't want her to see me like this. I was just very emotional and traumatized from what happened in our kitchen a few days ago. This just made me think pessimistically. She was going to be okay. We were going to be okay.

I cleared my throat before speaking. "Sorry, other Mrs. Lopierce." I turned my head and gently kissed her scalp. I didn't deserve such a wonderful wife, especially not after the shit we'd been through. But that term "soul mates"? You just know when you've met your soul mate. I don't know how to describe it. But I knew that Brittany was my other half.

"Now shut up and watch the damn movie," Brittany teased as she lifted up the remote and pressed "play". I let out a small chuckle and shut up for the rest of the movie, obeying the one woman that was allowed to tell me what to do.

* * *

><p>Finally, the damn movie was over. But I had a weeping blonde on my shoulder. What the hell was with this movie and making every girl on the planet drown in their tears? Sure, the ending was sad, but so what? I never understood the hype with this movie. And the worst part is that it made Brittany cry every time. Nothing pained my heart more than a crying Brittany.<p>

"Babe?" I called to her, lifting up my shoulder a bit to nudge her. She removed her head from my shoulder and looked at me. I frowned at the sight of her adorable nose being all red and stuffy, and her eyes pink and swollen. Tears kept rolling down her cheeks, and by instinct I brought my hand up to her face and wiped them away. It was just a movie, after all.

She didn't answer me, instead continuing to cry. I stared into her gems, the gems that had not sparkled in days. Why hadn't they sparkled? They'd been dead ever since the kitchen incident. It scared me. Was it a sign? No, no perhaps it was just me. She wasn't sick. No.

I leaned in and softly kissed her lips, which tasted like sorrowful tears, and it took her some time to kiss me back. The kiss was slow, sensual – not my favorite type but it was quite delicious nonetheless.

It was Brittany who made the first move in making it more passionate. She placed her hand on my left breast – on purpose, clearly – and pushed me down so I was lying on my back and she was on top of me. My fingers slithered into her golden locks, hanging on tight and never letting go. She liked having her hair in my hands, and she especially found it sexy when I pulled it.

My womanhood was on fire right about now, and I began to feel moisture down there. Shit, I was going to stain my brand new purple booty shorts. Ah well, at least it came out in the wash, I would've been fucked if I was a guy. As soon as Brittany started to slowly grind up against me, though, I wasn't too sure. Was it possible to get so wet that it couldn't come out of your clothes?

I moaned into Brittany's mouth, and this just drove her to grind even harder. And, to make it even worse for my poor sex, she surprised me by slipping her tongue into my mouth in the middle of a transition between kisses. I was totally fine with it though, and my tongue accepted her dancing invitation and dancing along. The Niagara Falls was totally happening down in my pants, and we hadn't even gotten to the good part yet.

"Britt," I moaned out. No, it was time for her to suffer just like me.

I pulled her hair, hard and firm just how she liked it, and I was thanked by a moan against my lips. It wasn't enough though, she continued to tease me by speeding up the grinding. I was going to die at this point, holy shit. Brittany may have been a simple girl, but when it came to sex she knew exactly what she was doing.

Her lips finally ripped away from mine, and she placed her tongue on my cheek, moving down to my neck. I was breathing heavily at this point, and my sex was aching for release. When I thought she was just going to stop at my neck, she suddenly adjusted herself so her head was by my stomach, leaving me to let go of her hair, and she lifted up my tank top and attack my abdomen with her tongue. As she was having a field down there, I was up here panting and trying to not die from all these pleasurable feelings I was having right now.

It was always more enjoyable when Brittany was on top. There were times where I liked to be on top, but I mostly enjoyed receiving rather than given since you felt more pleasure that way. But it was also torture being on the receiving end because you just wanted to get to the big explosion so badly. And Brittany was being super cruel right now.

"B..Bri…" I was panting so much I couldn't even speak without wanting to explode. Brittany knew what I was trying to say though, and I felt her tug at the stretchy band of my shorts. _Yes_, I told her mentally. _Do __it_.

But she was such a damn cocktease. Instead of sticking her hand in there and helping me out, she placed her hand right there on my womanhood, with my stupid fucking shorts in the way, and began to rub it. I let out a louder moan this time, and I was actually in pain with how much of a tease she was being. She must've felt how moist that area of my shorts were, and that just gave her drive to be a little more aggressive in her rubbing. Oh God, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Stop," I gasped. "Stop being a fucking cocktease!"

She giggled, and she moved up so her face was just a couple of inches away from me. I looked at her, right into those beautiful gems. I almost gasped – was that sparkle I saw? No, it wasn't sparkles. Her eyes looked brighter, but they didn't sparkle like they normally did. They were more alive, but they were still dead. What was it going to take to get those sparkles back?

"Anything you say, Mrs. Lopierce," she cooed. She placed her finger on my lips to silence me, and then slowly trailed it down to my shorts. My lungs were going to explode from all the heavy breathing, they were being crushed by ecstasy.

I wanted to tell her to get the fuck on with it, to just spare me the torture. My womanhood was aching so much I felt like it was going to shut down and never be turned on again. The other Mrs. Lopierce needed to get on with it. Now.

And she did. She at long last slipped her hand into my shorts, under the underwear, and I felt her warm skinny fingers come right home to mama. All it took was one rub to have me screaming –

But then the phone rang.

Wait, the phone fucking ran. Shit, shit what if that was Mike?

I didn't mean to be aggressive, but I had no choice but to push Brittany off of me and run for the phone. Thankfully she only felt back into the other side of the couch, because I wouldn't felt like shit.

And damn it, my clit was seriously aching with dissatisfaction as I ran. What horrible timing.

I yanked the phone receiver and brought it up to my ear, my heart beating at an abnormal speed. Was it Mike? Who was it? Because if it wasn't Mike I was going to bash their damn head in for interrupting everything.

"Hello?"

"Hey Santana," said the voice a familiar Asian doctor.

"Mike! I've been waiting for you to call all week. How did the tests go? Is she alright?"

There was hesitation in an answer, and my heart skipped a beat. "I'm actually outside of your house. Is it cool if I just come in and talk to you about it?"

No. That didn't sound good at all.

My eyes were already starting to water, and I hadn't even received the news yet. And the way Mike was talking – he sounded sad, mournful almost. No, this wasn't happening. Maybe he was just joking around.

"Yeah, sure," I sighed out.

* * *

><p>"It's stage two pancreatic cancer."<p>

_Don't joke Mike. Jokes like that aren't funny._

The room was spinning, slowly, nauseously. I felt Brittany's hand intertwined with my own, but she felt so far. I could feel my heart suffocating, I could feel it slowly dying. This wasn't happening. This was some fucked up dream. A nightmare. I was sitting on a couch? Yeah, I was sitting on my couch. The couch that I was so close to having sex on with my wife. My wife who had…

Pancreatic cancer? That was what Patrick Swayze had. Look how he turned out.

This wasn't happening. No way.

I felt dizzy, I felt like I would black out at any moment. Was I going to faint? My head certainly felt lighter. No wait, I couldn't black out yet. I needed to see Brittany. I needed to see my soul mate. Slowly my head turned to her, and she was already looking at me.

Her eyes were swollen, just how they were after we watched that stupid movie.

Her gems still didn't sparkle. Why the fuck did they refuse to sparkle? They looked more dead than ever. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. Damn it. My eyes refused to release my own tears. They hide in my ducts like damned cowards.

I opened my mouth to say something to her, anything, but nothing came out. How the hell was I supposed to comfort her? I couldn't even comfort myself!

Brittany knew she had to be the stronger one in this, even though she was the one with the damn cancer. She looked away from me and at Mike, taking a deep breath to calm herself before speaking.

"What can we do Mike?"

Mike bit his lip. Something told me he wanted to cry to, but being trained to not show any emotions in front of patients prevented him from doing it.

"First, since the cancer's spread to the organs around your pancreas, we have to perform an operation."

Just the fact she had cancer. What the fuck.

"And then?" Brittany asked.

Mike closed his eyes, unable to bear looking at Brittany while saying what he was about to say next.

"All that's left after that is chemotherapy."

"And how will that help?"

He gained the courage to look at Brittany once more. "It'll slow down the process of the cancer completely taking over you."

No.

_No_.

I couldn't hear anymore. I ripped my hand away from Brittany's and stormed out of the living room. My eyes finally decided to released tears, and they came by the barrel. I ran up the stairs, then down the hall to our bedroom. I couldn't deal with this. None of this was fucking real.

I barged into our bedroom, slamming the door hard behind me, and I flew onto my bed, allowing myself to sob loudly into my sheets. My heart was bleeding, and it was going to continue bleeding until Brittany's heart stopped beating. This wasn't happening. Hah, no, no I was just dreaming, that's it.

God wasn't taking away my soul mate. That would just be cruel. I knew that I was a bitch, but if God wanted to get back at me he would've made me get the cancer, right? Brittany wasn't sick. This was just a warning to be a nicer person. Right?

So hard I tried to convince myself. So fucking hard. But I continued to sob.

I kept sobbing until I slowly began to black out and entered a world of painful darkness.


	4. Mid October 2011 cont

I was on top of the fucking world. Brittany Susan Pierce was my girlfriend. My _girlfriend_. It was such a weird term for me to use. I was used to words like "boyfriend" or "hook-up" or "booty call". But this was different. This was something I wasn't used to. Such level of commitment, such _feelings_. It really was better with feelings, what had I been thinking before? I felt love. I was feeling _love_ for the first time in my life. Love for my _girlfriend_. My wonderful, beautiful, perfect girlfriend. I was whipped. So whipped.

I couldn't decide whether my newfound love was supposed to make me nicer or bitchier. So I decided to go with the flow.

Wearing my Cheerios uniform, my dark hair in a curly ponytail, I walked down the hallway with my chin held high and with the smile of a girl who was hopelessly in love.

Secretly in love, but hey.

Worthless losers moved out of my way as my very presence pushed them aside. Some girls looked at me with fear. Others with jealous disgust. I loved the smell of misery in the morning. It gave me such a power over others, a power that filled me up with such happiness that was almost as good as the feelings of a lovesick teenager. Man, I was so in love.

Then some dumbass accidentally bumped into me, ruining my high.

He looked like some puny freshman, and his face was a frightened expression, like he was going to turn to stone or something. Excuse me, my name wasn't Rachel Berry. I was too beautiful to turn people into stone. The kid should've been bowing down to me.

"S-sorry!" said the Justin Bieber-esque midget.

I put my hands on my hips and burned into his soul with my dark eyes. His lower lip began to tremble, which made me smirk and have the biggest urge to laugh in his face. How pathetic, did he have no balls?

"Fuck off, fresh meat," I growled at him, and he quickly walked around me and sped down the hall. My eyes followed him, satisfied with almost eating him alive. Stupid freshmen, I couldn't believe I used to be one.

As I turned around to continue my journey of striking fear in people, my eyes fell upon the door to the choir room for a split second. My eyes went back to the door, which was open, and I noticed Brittany sitting there. What was she doing there?

She was smiling, looking to the side of her, like someone was sitting next to her. I couldn't see because the doorway was blocking my vision, but it was obvious someone was in the room with her. Strange, from the looks of it the choir room looked pretty much empty with the exception of my girlfriend and her mysterious companion. Now, I never jumped to conclusions right away, but I couldn't help but feel suspicious. Why I automatically assumed she was with a guy, I don't know. She could've been with Mercedes, or Tina, or someone else that didn't have a penis. Yet I walked towards the choir room, dying to see who Brittany was with.

As soon as I stepped in the choir room, her little friend's face was visible to me, and I instantly blew up.

Wheelchair, stupid haircut that looked like his mother did it for him, and those retarded glasses that not even my abuela would wear whenever she felt like reading the newspaper. Fucking Stubbles McCripplepants. What the hell was he doing with my girlfriend?

I didn't even care about the textbook that was resting on his nerveless lap. I stomped towards the two, a beyond-pissed look on my face. What pissed me off even more was the fact that they didn't even notice my presence until I said something.

"What the fuck is this?" I growled.

Brittany jumped in surprise, and her head whipped in my direction with wide eyes, startled by my sudden appearance. The smile that was on Stubbles's face vanished once he looked up at me, and I wanted to smack his grandma glasses off his face.

Brittany smiled, not finding anything wrong with this situation. "Hi Santana. Artie was helping me with my math. Did you know that a fraction isn't an STD?"

My eyes switched from her to Stubbles, and I gave him the glare of a cobra ready to bite. He had a lot of nerve, tutoring my girlfriend in private. Wasn't he still totally in love with her? Because if he was I was going to end up making him fully paralyzed.

"You chose Stubbles as your tutor? What happened to Mike?"

She still didn't get the message because she was still smiling. "Oh, Mike couldn't help me out because he's working too hard on getting an A in all his classes so his parents don't flip out, so I asked Artie since people with glasses are second smartest to Asians."

I opened my mouth to say something, but then the ridiculous statement she said last finally process in my mind and I wasn't sure what to respond with. I shook my head, choosing to ignore responding to that part, and I scowled at Brittany.

"Britt, there are plenty of other dumb nerds that could help you out," I told her.

Then Stubbles decided to speak. People in wheelchairs had balls? "Not everyone around here tries to steal other people's girlfriends, Santana."

Slowly my head turned to him, and I cocked an eyebrow. "Excuse me Stubbles?"

"I have a right to be friends with Brittany, Santana. She's a person, not your property."

Stubbles was the only person around here that knew about me and Brittany. He put two and two together after Brittany and him broke up, and he eventually found out our secret. I expected him to spill and tell everyone as revenge for me stealing Brittany from him, but Brittany begged him to not say anything and he kept his trap shut since he obviously wasn't over her.

I stepped closer to the wheelchair'd son of a bitch and leaned down so our faces were only a couple of inches apart. He had the nerve to accuse me of treating my girlfriend like she was a thing? He was asking for it.

"Listen grandma, you don't see me calling my girlfriend stupid," I stated coldly, making him frown and hopefully shutting his trap. "And I trust her around shameful paraplegic ex-boyfriends like you. It's _you_ I don't trust Stubbles. Just remember who has the nerves in her legs to kick that stupid Kermit the Frog face of yours-"

"Santana, cut it out!" Brittany suddenly shouted, standing up and putting her hands up. She was frowning, which hurt my heart because I hated it when she didn't smile. I knew I was going a little far, but Abrams was on the verge of getting smacked in the face for talking shit.

I crossed my arms and leaned on one leg. Yes, I internally admitted my wrongs, but I wasn't about to show other people that I did. To an extent I was right, stupid Professor Xavier should've shut the hell up.

"What?" I asked, acting like I didn't say anything wrong. "Britt, if you and me were to ever break up and you weren't over me, and then we started hanging out and trying to be friends, what would _you_ do?"

She looked away for a moment and bit her lip. Yeah, her look was all I needed for an answer.

"That's what I thought. So feel free to tutor or do whatever the fuck you want to do, but if I see you –" I pointed specifically to Professor X. "- even look at my girlfriend the wrong way, I'll rip your limp paralyzed dick off."

Stubbles frowned. "I still have the use of my penis," he muttered, but I didn't give a shit, he wouldn't be able to do much of anything if he interfered with my relationship.

"I bet it's all blue and covered with dust and spider webs," I couldn't help but remark.

"Santana!"

I rolled my eyes. Brittany should've been used to me by now.

"Continue your little session. I have people to fool about my sexual orientation. Enjoy." I turned on my heel and stomp out of the choir room.

* * *

><p>I opened my locker, and I was welcomed by my usual views of Brittana-themed pictures. Pictures of the two of us when we were in sixth grade on some stupid field trip to some stupid zoo, or that one picture of the two of us at nationals last year. We pretty much smiled in all of them, we just looked so happy. They even made me smile. I took one picture in particular out just to have a closer look. It was a picture of Brittany and me at the bar in our hotel at New York, just before nationals. I was sitting on a stool, smiling a toothless smile at the camera, and Brittany was standing behind me, head on my shoulder, giving her usual exaggerated smile that seemed to shoot rays of sunshine out of the picture. She had her arms around my waist, holding me close like she didn't want to lose me. Did we count as together back then? The exact time we actually started being a couple still wasn't clear to me, the clearest it got was back at the restaurant. But damn, this picture in particular had enough power to give me goosebumps. Kudos to Puck for taking it.<p>

I was brought out of my zone by the voice of someone talking behind me.

"Hey there sexy thang."

Who the fuck says "sexy thang"? A look of disgust already on my face, I turned around to see who was the cunt that had the balls to even approach me. Oh gross, I recognized this kid. He was some sophomore asshole he thought he was Rico Suave or some shit. He wasn't even that cute. I'd seen him hit on the other Cheerios before - except Brittany because then he wouldn't have been amongst the living – and he was unsuccessful on all his pursuits. Did he think this was going to be any different?

"Piss off Jeremiah." I rolled my eyes and placed the picture back before he could notice anything.

"My name's Josh," he corrected me. "Josh Coleman."

"And I care because?" I closed my locker and looked at him with an uninterested look on my face.

"Because I believe I meet all your qualifications for the perfect boyfriend." God this guy was cocky. And he stopped being even close to my qualifications the moment he came out of his mother's vagina with a penis.

"I'm not interested in a boyfriend."

"I know, those football douches aren't interesting at all, it's no wonder you don't date them anymore. Us rugby players are a lot more fun, in fact I'm the captain-"

"Okay look Coleslaw. I'm not interested. You want me to say it in Spanish? No me interesa. Or hey, how about caveman, your native language? No want. No fucking want."

With that, I turned around and started to walk away. But the douchebag said something that really set me off.

"What are you, a lesbian?"

I froze. Holy shit, he was just asking to get castrated. Slowly I turned, and my eyes shot rays of death into his skin.

"What did you say?"

He was scowling at me, clearly pissed at getting rejected. Okay, never did I hear him accusing the other Cheerios of being lesbians for turning his worthless ass down. Why was I the only one he accused? What the fuck was his problem?

"I'm just saying. You're usually hopping on someone's dick every week. Now ever since school started this isn't the case. Changed your colors over the summer?"

Oh hell no. I stomped over to him and went all up in his face. He had the nerve to accuse me of being a lesbian? Regardless that it was true, no one accused me of being a lesbian. And no sophomore was about to stir the pot to make me explode.

"I've gained standards over the summer, douchecunt," I growled at him. "You're not my type. And you know why? _Because __I __think __bestiality __is __wrong_."

That shut him up. He finally broke his gaze on me and looked away, licking his lips in defeat. Yeah, that's what I thought. I gave him a smirk and turned around to walk away once more. But then another smart remark came out of his stupid idiotic mouth.

"You'd be too wide for me anyway." No he did not just call my vagina wide.

That was it. I snapped.

I turned around and flew at him, an animalistic scream escaping my mouth. But before I could even crash into him, I felt a pair of arms wrap around me and pull me back. I reached my hands out to try and claw the bastard before I would be unable to reach him, but I was pulled away too quickly and my nails didn't touch skin. I tried to break free of the person's grip so I could eat Coleslaw alive, but the arms that were around me were strong and muscular. God damn it, one guess on who it was.

"Santana stop!" I heard a trout yelled. I didn't listen of course, I was still struggling out of his grip. Coleslaw winked at me and smiled, and turned to leave. No shit, he was getting away! Trouty Mouth needed to let go of me now, before the little shit won the day.

"Sam get the fuck off me!" I demanded. But he didn't obey.

"No Santana. Fighting and getting suspended isn't worth it!"

Even though Coleslaw was long gone, I was still trying to claw away from Sam to go and find him. Clearly the trout was trying to hold on to me until I cooled down. Yeah, okay.

"It totally is, now let me go so I can claw his fucking eyes out!"

He let go of me for a moment, and I tried to speed away, but he grabbed me and turned me around to I was facing him. His golden hair was in his eyes, and he was all red from trying to hold me down. He shook me to try and calm me down, but it wasn't working.

"Santana, you need to calm down! He's just a stupid sophomore, and no one even cares about the rugby team!"

Finally admitting to myself that he wasn't going to stop, and stood still and let out a deep breath.

"Yeah, okay whatever. Yeah."

He still didn't trust me though and had his hands on my shoulder, which just pissed me off even more. I hated not being trusted, even though I shouldn't be trusted.

"Can I trust you to not run down the halls searching for him?"

"No, not really."

He let out a sigh. "Santana you know there are a lot of this assholes in this school. You shouldn't listen to them."

"Oh I'm sorry, what was that? I was too busy looking at your oversized mouth going up and down like a trout in a fish tank."

His lips formed a straight line. Yeah, insulting people was a reflex of mine, but lucky for me most people were used to it. Kind of.

"Santana."

"Ugh whatever. Are you marrying Quinn yet?" I just wanted to change the subject, especially to a subject he wasn't comfortable with.

His green eyes looked away from me and his straight line turned into an upside-down curve. "Santana, I'm dating Mercedes."

I shook my head. "Oh c'mon, seriously? I call rebound."

He finally removed his hands from my shoulder, assured that I wouldn't go murder the rugby cunt. "Rebound? Look Santana, Quinn's not herself right now, ever since she broke up with Finn-"

"Yeah yeah, she went batshit. How about you shut the fuck up and go talk to her?"

He leaned away from me. "I'm dating Mercedes, Santana! And Quinn's off doing her thing with the Skanks, she's not even in glee club anymore."

Yeah, pink-haired Quinn was gross. Well, it was actually kind of hot but I was obligated to say it was gross because I was currently in a relationship, albeit secret relationship, with a girl I've loved for years and shouldn't have thoughts like that about one of my best friends. Well, ex-best friend. God, Finn was a douche.

"Dump Jennifer Hudson, Evans. Don't act like you don't still love Quinn."

He threw his hands up in the air, frustrated that I was still insisting that he interact with his beloved ex. "I'm done talking about this Santana!"

Annoyed with me, he walked past me and didn't look back. I couldn't help but smile at how defensive he was being. Really, how obvious was it that he was super in love with Quinn? I knew exactly what it was like to be in love, I knew the looks – though of course no one but Brittany knew that I knew such things. Still, I knew the look of someone in love, and Sam had it when he looked at Quinn. It was disgustingly adorable.

But enough of other people's relationships, mine was more important. Speaking of my relationship, where was Brittany? I turned around to go find her, but by coincidence she was just walking up to her locker, which just so happened to me next to mine for the fourth year in a row. Stubbles not around, the butterflies kicked in and I smiled at my beautiful girlfriend. God, she was gorgeous.

I walked up to her and leaned against my locker, gazing at her dreamily. "Hey," I greeted.

She looked at me while opening her locker and smiled at me, her milky skin turning red in seconds. She was so cute when she blushed. "Hi."

Her locker was full of pictures of the two of us, just like mine. Well, us and her cat. Her rather fat cat that she seemed to love like a child. I hated that damned cat, and quite honestly Brittany gave him the stupidest name imaginable. Lord Tubbington? Seriously? I still loved her though, no matter how simple-minded she was. Being simple was good, there were too many complicated assholes in the world – like me. Imagine I dated someone that was just like me? Yikes.

I knew I had to tell her something, because quite honestly I'd been feeling guilty all day for acting like a bitch. She was the only person that made me feel guilty enough to apologize, she was lucky.

"Hey, I'm sorry about earlier," I told her as she started digging through her locker. "I was just a little defensive because, well, it's Artie."

"I forgive you," she spoke softly. "I understand. And I'm happy you trust me, but I would appreciate it if you trusted Artie too. You know he's not like that."

I looked away. "I don't even know what he's like. He seemed alright until he called you stupid-"

"Santana," she interrupted, not angrily but firmly. "I didn't appreciate when he called me that, but that was last year. He just wants to be friends with me, and I'm fine with that. Okay?"

I bit my lip and sighed. Well good for her if she was happy with all that, but that didn't mean I was happy. Didn't I get a say in all this?

"I don't know, I guess I'm just a little tense because –"

"Because Artie's the only one that knows about us? Because you're afraid he's going to tell?"

Wow, that wasn't exactly what I was going to say, but when she said that I realized that was the exact reason why I was extra hostile towards him. That made sense.

"Um, yeah."

I expected her to scold me some more, but she simply smiled at me, which made me confused.

"I love you Santana," she said out of the blue. I was happy to hear it, but that was rather random.

But eh, what the fuck. I smiled back, and I felt my cheeks heat up. A year ago I would've never thought I would love those three words. Hell, love didn't exist to me, or at least I didn't think it did. Brittany helped me realize love was real, that love was what made this world. Shit, was I glad I fell in love with her.

"I love you too," I whispered.

I wanted to kiss her so badly at that moment, and I was sure she wanted to kiss me too. But there was a wall between us, a wall that prevent us from doing the deed. It was the wall of society values, of being accepted by everyone. If we broke down that wall, there would be nothing to defend us.

We would be nothing.

* * *

><p>I escaped the darkness with moist eyes. Had I been crying in my sleep? It certainly felt so. Wait, shit where was I? Oh, I was in my room, the last place I remembered being before blacking out. Where was Brittany? Where was my wife, my beloved Mrs. Lopierce? Fuck I needed her. I needed to hold her, to love her, where was she?<p>

I rolled over in my bed, and then I was face-to-face with the most beautiful being in the universe.

Her dead blue eyes stared at me, as if she was watching me sleep the entire time. She didn't blink, she didn't move. Oh Lord, was she dead? The cancer got to her that fast? No, no that couldn't be -

"Mrs. Lopierce?" she whispered to me.

Tears were already flowing out of my eyes and onto the bedsheets. I was sure there was big puddle around the bed made of my tears. I was so happy she didn't die yet, that her heart was still beating. I loved her so much, there was no way she was leaving me.

It took me a while to respond, but I tearfully responded. "Other Mrs. Lopierce."

Then tears starting rolling down from her own eyes and her bottom lip started to quiver. That wasn't a good sign at all.

"I'm scared."

We both broke down at that moment. I moved over and wrapped my arm around her, digging my head into her hair and let her sob softly into my chest. I knew she couldn't act that strong without breaking down, I knew her better than that.

Now it was my turn to be the strong one. I had to be. I wasn't the one with the cancer. I wasn't the one that was going to die.

She needed me to be strong. Hell, I needed me to be strong.

"We'll get through this together," I whispered to her, placing a kiss on the top of her head and continuing to hold her close.

Together, that was the most important part.

We would be together until it was time for her to go.


	5. Late July 2016

**Hey guys! So I'm happy to tell you that I've completed three chapters that will be uploaded today! I'm just at the airport at the moment and I only have time to upload two chapters, but enjoy and I'll have the third completed chapter up later today! Enjoy! :)**

* * *

><p>"This sucks," I muttered.<p>

Never in my life did I imagine I would ever be sitting in the waiting room of a hospital, the suspense and concern for my beloved eating at my heart like some sort of zombie. Brittany agreed to do the surgery, just because she wanted to live for as long as possible. I was happy that she wanted to live just as badly as I wanted her to, but I knew what this meant. A longer time of watching her suffer, a longer time of having mini-heart attacks every time she would faint or having a coughing fit. From this point on until she finally stopped breathing, I would live in fear. Fear of losing her, fear of not being ready. Right now I wasn't ready. I wasn't sure if I would ever be ready.

Quinn was there to console me though, just what nurses were supposed to do. But she wasn't comforting me as my wife's nurse. No, she was comforting me as my best friend, the friend that held me close since we were puny freshmen. Granted, we were sucky friends toward each other in high school, but as we grew older we grew to properly respect each other as friends. And I was glad, because I wasn't sure who else would be here to console me.

She had her hand on my back, rubbing it as she tried to comfort me. I wasn't crying right now, I was much too scared for Brittany to even breathe properly. Since we arrived at the hospital my heart was pounding in my chest, and there were moment where I thought I would faint on the spot.

"It's going to be okay," she spoke softly.

I was so sick of people saying it was going to be okay. Sure, I told Brittany that, but only because she was the one who really needed comfort. I didn't need other people bullshitting me. It wasn't going to be okay. It was never going to be okay.

I glared at her. "Quinn, that sort of shit might work on Britt, but it's not working on me." I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. "It's not going to be okay. She's _dying_, Quinn. Dying. As in she might be in a coffin in a few months."

I was bitterly pessimistic lately, and it wasn't good for my own health. High blood pressure was something Mike warned me about, but I didn't listen to him. What I was stating was fact. Brittany was dying, and nothing was going to change that. Not even me.

"Santana," Quinn sighed, "please, don't be like that."

"Be like what?" I snapped. "It's true. You don't know what I have to deal with Quinn. You don't have the person you love most in the entire universe dying right in front of you!"

Snapping at her was completely unnecessary, but I tended to externalize my problems and she unfortunately was the only person around I could take all my frustration out on. The old Quinn Fabray would've bitten right back, but this new, more humble Quinn took a more peaceful approach.

"You're right," she agreed. "I don't know what it's like to watch the person I love die. But I _do_ know what it's like to watch one of your best friends die."

Yeah, she was right. Brittany was still very dear to her, and perhaps her pain was just as badly as mine. My eyes burned a little with oncoming tears, but I pushed them back. I wasn't going to cry, I was afraid as I going to jinx Brittany's surgery. Instead, I rested my head on Quinn's shoulder, instantly sorry for biting at her. She took my silent apology and leaned her head sideways so her head was leaning on my head.

At least I wasn't alone in my pain. Perhaps this journey would be little less painful with other people around.

* * *

><p>I popped my head into Brittany's room, and saw my beautiful wife looking weak but still living on her bed. The surgery must've kicked her ass, I was sure, but I was happy to see her in one piece. She saw me and smiled, and I smiled back. Even out of surgery she looked like a goddess.<p>

"Hi," I greeted, and I walked towards her and sat by her on the bed. I was careful not to touch her anywhere on her torso since that was where they opened her up, and I didn't want to kill her. She was going to die anyway, I just didn't want to be the one to cause it.

"Hey," she greeted me back, her voice quiet and weak. I took a moment to look into her eyes to see if there was any sort of light in there, any sparkles that I missed. But none. There was no light in those beautiful eyes of hers. Where was it? I missed it.

"How are you feeling?" I asked as I placed my hand on her cold and almost limp one.

"Like shit."

I chuckled. "Not even a Lopierce can overcome the after-effects of surgery."

"That Anastasia they gave me gave me awesome dreams though."

Did she just? Oh, silly Brittany. "Anastasia? You mean anesthesia?"

"Yeah, that."

I chuckled once more. At least she was still simple Brittany after experiencing such a harsh surgery.

I decided to take a risk and leaned in to give her a kiss, since God knows she needed it after being under the knife for a few hours, but before I could do it I heard a voice from the doorway.

"Santana, can't you keep it in your pants for one day? She just got out of surgery."

The voice was too deep and obnoxious to be Quinn or Mike, and before I even turned around I knew exactly who it was.

"Fuck off, Puckerman," I told the tall Jewish ex-bad boy with a smile.

Puck smirked as he leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. He looked exactly how he'd been looking since graduation – wife beater covered with oil, jeans, and worn-out timberlands. I used to think he wasn't hot without his Mohawk, but I grew to love his buzz cut. It was better than a Jewfro.

"Hello to you too, Lesbionic." Ugh, he'd been calling me that for years, I hated it. He walked into the room towards Brittany and me, and he leaned in to give Brittany a kiss on the head. "How's the nicer half of Santittany?"

"Brittana," I corrected, because Brittany always came first.

"I've felt way better," Brittany informed him, but she couldn't help but smile.

Puck flashed her a smile then turned to me and gave me a kiss on my head. Gross, that was so un-Puck of him. "Keep your man saliva off of me," I muttered.

Puck laughed. "Are you one of those fundamentalist lesbians that grimace at the thought of a penis?"

I rolled my eyes. "You know I'm not."

"I figured you imagined me with a vagina or something every time we did it," he said with a shrug.

Brittany shook her head, not having the energy for this. "Okay, I don't need to here this."

Puck smirked at her. "Hey, you're another one. But you're acceptable 'cause you go both ways."

I smacked his arm hard, but he did nothing but laugh. I'm sure he couldn't feel anything under those ridiculously large pecks anyway.

"Okay, you were forbidden from talking about either of us having sex with you the moment we said 'I do'," I told him angrily. He winked at me, which made me hit him again.

Mike walked into the room, and upon seeing Puck he smiled. "Hey man!"

"Changster. What's up?" Puck gave Mike a bro hug, acting like they hadn't seen in each other years.

"Nothing much. How's the shop?"

"Pretty good. I'm glad Kurt's dad let me have it, I always figured I was going to be a mechanic."

Mike nodded. "That's cool."

"And you? How's being the youngest doctor in Ohio?"

Mike laughed. "I would've loved dancing more, but you know how having strict Asian parents work."

"You're still an awesome doctor Mike," Brittany chimed in.

"Thanks Britt. Right, so the latest report on you." He looked down at his clipboard, and Puck took this as his signal to sit down in one of the chairs. I squeezed Brittany's hand lightly, ready to hear what Mike had to say. All eyes were on him right now.

"The operation went well," Mike announced, and I let myself breathe. Thank God, that was good right? Even though that wouldn't stop the cancer completely, it at least gave her more time. "The cancer shouldn't spread for a while now. But right now I have to ask you something. Do you want to do chemotherapy?"

I looked at Brittany, my eyes instantly telling her to say yes. She looked at me and nodded. Yeah, she wanted to do it to. We both wanted to give her more time. Her decision already made, she looked at Mike.

"Yeah Mike."

Mike nodded, but he wasn't finished. "I just want you to make sure you completely understand. If you don't do chemo, then you only have a few months, but those few months will be as painless as possible. But if you do chemo, you have a shot of living for up to five more years, but it'll be extremely difficult and painful."

Was it selfish that I wanted her to suffer as long as she was still with me? There was no way just a few months was enough time to properly prepare for her departure from earth. Five more years sounded more like it, maybe I would be at least a little ready in that time. But a few months was unacceptable. I needed her to live longer.

I was alerted by how silent Brittany was, like she was seriously thinking about what to do. Wasn't there only one option? The option to live longer! She kept looking at me, then at Mike, then back to me, and I could almost see the steam coming out of her ears from thinking so much. Oh God, she wasn't going to choose the one where she only lived a few months, was she?

"I'm going to do it Mike," she told him firmly, and I felt relieved. "Five years sounds like a good deal to me."

Mike smiled weakly and nodded. "Alright, then I'm going to ask you to come back next week so we can start the chemo then."

I smiled at Brittany, and she smiled back. But there was something about her smile that didn't seem right. Something that unsettled me.

It was almost like she wasn't happy with her choice.

* * *

><p>"So then I was like 'yeah I'm twenty-three' and she was suddenly all over me! I don't know what's with these older women but they just love young meat."<p>

My ears were bleeding as I was forced to hear Puck's stories of his sexual escaped with woman twice his age. It was gross. Brittany was having a kick out of it though, but she had to keep the laughing to a minimum because it hurt to laugh.

Quinn suddenly appeared in the doorway, a smile on her face. She must've been attracted to the sound of a laughing and happy Brittany. "Are we having fun in here?"

Puck turned to see Quinn, and his smile weakened a little. I saw this and smiled.

"Hey Quinn," he greeted her.

"Hi Puck," she sang.

Oh awkwardness. I loved it. There was a delicious sound of silence for a few seconds, and I waited to see which one of the two would break it. Oh, this was too much.

"How's Sam?" he asked her, though it was obvious he didn't really care how Trouty Mouth was.

"He's good. He's been really busy with work and all that, but that's okay because I've been busy being here for forty-eight hour shifts."

Puck nodded slowly. "That sucks."

"Yeah."

Oh more awkward silence. I felt a laugh come up my throat but I had to hold it back. I looked over at Brittany, who wasn't really smiling or wanting to live. If anything she looked a little horrified at this scene. Oh, guess I was the only one who found this funny.

"Well, I have to checks to do so um, I'll see you guys later," Quinn said, already rushing out the door.

Puck opened his mouth to say goodbye, but she disappeared because a syllable even came out. He let out a sigh in defeat.

Finally I let out a laugh, and he looked at me with a scowl. What? It was hilarious!

"What? Oh c'mon, you don't find it at least a little funny?"

"No actually, I don't," Puck growled, and Brittany nodded in agreement.

"Please. Five years later and you guys are still awkward around each other. Yeah, it was a shitty break-up but you guys were kids, you're adults now."

Puck rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry, how would you like it if Brittany left you for Artie?"

That name wasn't never allowed in my presence. The smirk on my face disappeared instantly and I glared at him.

"You never mention _that_ in my presence. Ever," I snapped.

Brittany sighed. "Santana –"

I held my hand up to silence Brittany, my eyes still on Noah. "_You __never __mention __him_. Am I clear?"

"Santana, when have I ever been afraid of you?"

"Since right now. Have you ever fucked with a girl from Lima Heights, Puckerman? Hm?"

"Santana!" Brittany cried. "Stop, please. This is so not the time to start fighting."

"Tell him to never let that name escape his lips in front of me ever again," I told her. I was about two seconds away from claw Puck's eyes out right now.

Brittany looked at Puck with pleading eyes. "Puck, please."

Puck rolled his eyes. "Alright fine, sorry."

"Thank you."

"Yeah _Noah_. Thanks," I muttered.

Now it was just Brittany and me, and it was around ten o'clock at night. After Puck left, the atmosphere was a little heavier and more depressing. Being alone with your dying wife wasn't exactly something to be happy about, and it was a lot easier dealing with this with other people by my side. Where the hell was Quinn?

"Aren't you tired?" I heard Brittany ask. I looked up from the chair after spacing out. Whoa, when was the last time I heard her talk? It must've been half an hour.

"Hm? Oh, no not really. Aren't you? You're the one who had surgery today."

Brittany nodded. "Yeah, a little."

I got up from my chair and walked over to her, but didn't sit on the bed. I just tried to fluff her pillows and pulled her blanket over her to make sure she was nice and warm. It was really cold in hospitals, even though it was the middle of the summer. It was a wonder how no one had frozen to death.

"Go to sleep then," I told her.

She grabbed my hand and looked up at me. I got lost in her dead blue eyes, the ones with no sparkles. No matter the time of day, or where we were, she always looked to perfect, and every day I was reminded of how lucky I was to be hers. She didn't deserve anything of this, she was too innocent and beautiful for such a fate. Was she really dying? Why kind of sick God would do this to someone like her? It was no wonder why this world sucked ass. He kept killing all of the good people that deserved to be here and let the assholes who didn't live.

"San," she called to me. "do you think I should go through with the chemistry therapy?"

"Chemotherapy," I corrected her. "And yes."

"Why?"

I looked away for a moment, and at last tears started to roll down my cheeks. It was the first time today I actually cried, as my eyes were too tired to hold anything back anymore. I didn't mean to let her see me cry but I was just too tired.

"I want you to live, Britt."

"I'm going to die anyway, Sannie."

I glared at her, the tears never ceasing. "Don't say that," I said in cracking voice.

"But I am-"

"Brittany, please, shut up."

Her own eyes were beginning to water as well. No, that just made me want to cry even more.

"San, eventually I'm not going to be here anymore, chemistry therapy or not. I just want to know why you want me to do it."

"Because I'm not ready to lose you!"

She began to cry, but she refused to break down. Clearly she was the stronger one right now. It seemed lately we were taking turns on who was supposed to be strong in each situation. Today it was her turn because I was already on the verge of breaking down.

"San, you're never going to be ready."

I shook my head in disagreement. "You're wrong, Britt. I have more time with you having the chemotherapy than just leaving you alone to see what happens!"

I sounded so selfish, but I didn't care. Losing her was never going to be an option, but expanding her lifespan was and that was better than nothing.

"Santana…"

"Brittany, I'm done talking about this. Please, no more."

We had both stopped crying, and we were just left to stare in each other's red and swollen eyes. At first I thought her eyes had gotten their sparkle back, but that was just the moisture of her eyeballs. Damn.

"Santana," she called me again.

"What?" If she was going to continue this I was going to have to smack her. Or run out of the room.

"Can I have a goodnight kiss?"

I started to smile, but the smile never finished. I obeyed her and leaned down to kiss her softly on the lips, and she weakly kissed me back. She still tasted the same, sick or not, and as long as that was the same that I would be okay. To an extent.

I pulled away and looked down at her. "Goodnight," I whispered. She smiled at me and turned over away from me so she could finally sleep in peace.

I went over and sat back in the chair. My body was aching for a bed to sleep in, but I wasn't about to even consider going back home. I didn't want to leave Brittany for one second. She was dying, and I had to enjoy every second of every day with her. The clock was ticking, and it was the ticking that made this all so painful.

My body accepted that I wasn't going to get up and go home, so it allowed me to fall into a deep slumber.

More darkness. And more pain.


	6. Early November 2011

"Yo, Santana." Puck came up next to me as I dug through my locker and leaned against the locker next to me.

"What do you want Puckerman?" I muttered as I took out a history textbook. I blinked at how dusty it was, when was the last time I used it?

"I was thinking. You, me, a couple of wine coolers –"

"Not interested," I said bluntly as I shoved the dusty textbook back into my locker.

"Wait, what?"

I closed my locker and looked at him. "I said I'm not interested."

He looked at me like I had two heads. Yes, it was very un-like me to deny Noah Puckerman whenever he wanted to get down and dirty, but that was before I realized I was in love with Brittany. He was going to have to find a new fuck buddy.

"Since when are you not interested?"

I crossed my arms. "Uh let's see, since your fucking ex-girlfriend threw me around like a ragdoll like the fucking white rhinoceros she is?" It was a good excuse since that hippo Zizes felt like messing with me and we got into a fight. Ugh, I was so happy she left the glee club, I would've ended up hauling her fat ass to a zoo as an exhibit or some shit.

"Are you still on that? Me and her broke up already!"

"Yeah well too late Puckerman. Now if you'll excuse me I have some freshmen to go scare."

He opened his mouth to say something, but he was silenced by me cocking an eyebrow. Pissed off, he turned around and stomped away, and I looked after him with a smirk on my face. At least he had no reason to suspect that I was a lesbian, though I wasn't sure why that Coleslaw asshole though out of all things that I was a lesbian. Or maybe he just said that because he was a whiny little bitch who wouldn't take no for an answer.

I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I turned around and saw my gorgeous-but-secret girlfriend smiling at me. Her eyes were as bright as the stars upon landing on my face, and my tan skin felt hot under her gaze. She was so beautiful, so pure. How did I end up with someone like her?

"Hi!" she greeted me cheerfully.

"Hey," I responded with a pearly smile.

"What was that with Puck? Is everything okay?"

My eyes unintentionally fell down to her Promised Land, the land that I explored in many times in my life, the land that I could travel through in my sleep (I might've one time actually, but I can't remember). Even though a white and red Cheerios skirt was in my way of a full view, I could picture exactly what was under there, and my mouth almost watered at the thought. Damn, speaking of my mouth, though. My mind instantly grew dirty at the thought of what my tongue could do to her down there, how it could travel through the moisture any way it pleased - shit, Puck always equaled sex, and sex always equaled Brittany. And Brittany always equaled sexy thoughts – and a wet set of panties like mine at the moment.

"Santana?"

I snapped out of it and quickly looked up at her, my face flushed. "Uh, what?"

She blinked, confused at why I spaced out. "What happened with Puck?"

"Oh um…he just needed a pick-me-up, and I told him no."

Brittany frowned. "He wanted to pick you up? Like in a hug?"

I chuckled. "No Britt, I mean he wanted to have sex with me, but I told him no."

"Oh!" Then she stared me, scanning me for some reason. Why? She was studying me… I didn't mind her looking at me, it was just making my face really hot and my vag even hotter. Grah, okay I needed a release immediately.

"Britt."

"Yes?"

"You want to come over my house after school and put on an episode of Grey's Anatomy we'll probably not finish watching?"

A smile grew on her face, which I took as a "yes" even if she didn't say it out loud. She loved Grey's Anatomy, and even I grew to like it. That one lesbian couple on that show, Callie and Arizona? I felt like that would be us in like ten years. Well, minus the being doctors part because I was pretty sure none of us wanted to be doctors. And shit, we got a lot of our techniques from that show. Shower sex? Oh yeah.

I was about to grab Brittany expecting her to say yes, but then she fucked everything up.

"I'd love to San, really, but I'm going with Artie to the library after school so he could help me study for my math test."

Was she fucking serious? Stubbles _again_? The happiness that was growing on my face was immediately replaced with pure fury, and I was no longer red because of my horniness. She was being completely serious, oh my God.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize you and Stubbles were dating again," I growled.

Her own smile went away and turned into a frown. "San-"

"I don't want to hear it!" I snapped. "I'm on fucking fire right now, but you'd rather be with your fucking paralyzed ex-boyfriend than your own-" Someone was walking by so I quickly stopped myself, my eyes followed the douchecunt until she was out of earshot. I looked at Brittany, about to say something but then she spoke.

"San, I already told you that Artie just wants to be friends!"

I shook my head. "Brittany don't be so st- don't be so naïve! Can't you see that-"

"You were going to call me stupid, weren't you Santana?" she interrupted. Her aqua eyes turned into blue fire, and I felt my heart sink to the abyss.

"What, no Britt-"

"Yes you were. You talk about Artie calling me stupid but you were about to do the same thing. People who are dating don't insult each other."

"Yeah but, okay you know how I am-"

"I know exactly how you are Santana! And that's the problem!" She leaned in closer to me. "I love you, okay? Only you. I'm yours, and you're mine, proudly so. Artie is just a friend who is helping me out, nothing more. I would never cheat on you or leave you for anyone else, because I'm _yours_. You're my best friend! You have to stop being so…insecure about me!"

I was so close to putting this aside until she called me insecure. The barriers went up, and they had the complete set of venomous spikes attached to them.

"_Insecure_? Excuse me if I don't want my feelings hurt by you again. Or did you forget when you shot me down for that Kermit impersonator? 'Oh Santana but I love Artie too', 'Oh Santana I can't break up with him it wouldn't be right'. In fact, if he didn't call you stupid in the first place, we wouldn't even be together! You know how much that bothers me? It bothers me that I wasn't your first choice, that you wouldn't even leave him for me. So please Brittany, fuck off."

My words dug into her heart deeply, just like mine, and her eyes were swollen with oncoming tears. I immediately regretted everything I said up to that point, but the damage was done and she was hurt. Damn it.

"You know what Santana? You're right, I am stupid. Both you and Artie are right. Are you happy? How does it feel to sound just like him? I hope you're happy with being right since that's what you always want to be." A tear fell down her cheek and my heart tore itself apart. "Acting like this is just going to push me away San. And then you'll have no one to blame but yourself. I have to go. I'll see you later." Before I could even protest she turned on her heel and ran down the hall.

Well, I felt like shit.

* * *

><p>That night I tried calling Brittany, but it kept going to her stupid voicemail. I'd been trying literally for an hour straight, just sitting on my bed and hoping she would pick up her phone. But no answer. Shit, I messed up.<p>

There was a knock on my door, and I nearly jumped. Was it Brittany? Did was she coming to pay a surprise visit? "Come in."

The door opened and in came my mother. Damn it, not the person I wanted to see. Where was Brittany?

"Santana mija, dinner's ready."

"I'm not hungry," I muttered as I sent Brittany a text for the thirty-third time today.

"Mija, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

My mother cocked an eyebrow – it was a Lopez thing clearly – and walked over to my bed and sat on the edge. She knew something was wrong, she was a Lopez after all.

"Santana."

"Mom."

"_Santana_."

"Mom."

"Santana!"

"What!"

God, parents are so fucking annoying.

"Santana, what's wrong? And don't give me that bullshit 'nothing'. Seriously. Is it Brittany?"

"Why would it be Brittany?" I asked defensively. Oh shit, that wasn't subtle.

My mother blinked in confusion. "Because she's your best friend?"

Oh duh. "Right, sorry. Yeah fine you caught me."

"Aw mija, do you want to talk about it-" Her cell phone suddenly rang, and I immediately knew what that meant. She got up from my bed and pulled out her cell. "Aye sorry mami, I have to take this. We'll talk later?"

I rolled my eyes as she walked out of my room and answered her cell.

* * *

><p>"Suck my dick, Coleslaw," I growled, having the misfortune of having that rugby asshole stalk me at my locker. His very presence was irking me, and he didn't even speak yet. I didn't want him anywhere near me, and if he started accusing me of being a lesbian again Sam wouldn't be here to stop me.<p>

"Hey, no need for the hostility. I come here in peace." He had his hands up in the air defensively, but that stupid smirk was still on his face.

"Go come in peace somewhere else asshole. I'm not interested."

"Hey, you should be lucky I'm giving you a second chance-"

I slammed my fist against the locker, which made him back away a bit. "And you should be lucky I'm not clawing your fucking eyes out. Now fuck off!"

Coleslaw decided to be smart for once, and with a disgusted look on his face he turned around and walked away. I was just waiting for him to insult me under his breath, but he kept silent like the good bitch he was. Good.

I turned around to walk the other way, but then I saw Brittany walking down the hall. She never returned any of my calls or texts, and she'd been avoiding me all day during school. Well, now she had nowhere to run. I straightened myself out and walked her way, ready to yank her out from the crowd. Everything seemed to be in slow motion, and it seemed like there was no one else around but me and her. Us. How we were supposed to be.

Her eyes finally came my way, by the left as soon as they arrived. She tried to maneuver her way to the other side of the hall, but she wasn't going to get away that easily. I quickly grabbed her by the arm, stopping her in her tracks. She was looking down at the floor, refusing to look at me. Really? It'd only been a day since our fight. It wasn't like we broke up. Right?

"Can I talk to you for a second?" I asked her quietly.

She still refused to look at me. "No."

"Brittany, please," I pleaded. "Just for a second."

A long silence came between us, and for a moment I thought she was going to say no. But thankfully she proved me wrong.

"Fine."

I wanted to smile but I couldn't. Instead I led her away down the hallway and then outside towards the football field. Talking by our lockers was not private enough for us, it was best to go somewhere completely secluded so if we ended up yelling at each other no one would hear us. I brought her to under the bleachers, the best place I could think of. It just sucked because November weather was a bitch in Ohio.

"I'm sorry," I told her as we stopped walking.

She just looked at me, like my apology wasn't enough. Yeah, I knew it wasn't that easy. I hated apologizing.

"I'm sorry for acting like a dick. Yesterday was totally unnecessary."

She still looked at me. What the fuck? She wanted me to say more? Was the fact that Santana Lopez said sorry was not good enough? People would've killed to hear an apology from me.

"Brittany."

No answer.

"Brittany! Fine, fuck! I'm sorry okay? I'm sorry for exploding at you like that and almost calling you stupid. You're not stupid, or naïve or anything. I just said those things because I was pissed off. And I shouldn't even be pissed. I know you wouldn't leave me for Stubbl- Artie. I'm just jealous, okay?"

She looked at me some more, and I was about to scream at her for giving me no answer, but she finally said something.

"I don't understand why you're jealous if you know that."

"I…" Shit, she had a point. Why was I jealous? Stubbles had nothing on me, and Brittany and I were soul mates. Why did it bother me if I was able to trust her? Why?

"…I just…you're the first and probably the only person I've ever and will ever love, okay? I'm just scared of losing this, of losing us. And I really don't know why I explode like that. If anything I should be thanking Stub- fuck, _Artie_, because he's helping you graduate. I'm sorry Britt. I'm so sorry."

She looked at me, at my very soul. I wasn't sure whether to fall into her gaze or run away from it. I couldn't tell if her eyes were calming water or blue flames. She was pretty difficult to read right now, and my heart was skipping between beats as I waited for her to say or do something, anything. We weren't breaking up were we?

But she smiled, and I almost fainted in relief.

"This Santana Lopez is weird," she remarked with a laugh, and she took a step forward and planted a kiss on my lips.

The kiss was all it took to make my panties explode though, and instantly they were drenched. Holy shit, was it time for makeup sex? That was the best type of sex.

My hands landed on her cheeks, and slowly we kissed. Under the bleachers was perfect, no one would see is here at this time. Everyone was at lunch currently, who would come outside in the November cold?

One of my hands reached behind Brittany and I pulled her scrunchie off so those beautiful golden locks I loved so much could flow down like a curtain made out of Egyptian cotton. I threw the scrunchie somewhere and dug deep into her hair, just how she liked it, and pulled her in closer to make the kisses more passionate. None of this would get done just standing here and making out, we both wanted to much more and we couldn't wait any longer.

"Britt," I muttered between kisses. "Get on the ground."

She obeyed, and down we went together, though Brittany was the one who lay on her back. I didn't waste a second of the time we spent with our lips apart and straddled her, both of our sexes touching though pieces of clothing were in our way. Brittany couldn't help but moan at the touch though, and that just made me feel hotter.

Our kisses became rougher and more passionate, and I couldn't help but grind slightly as I did so. God, it felt so fucking good. Granted having sex under the bleachers wasn't ideal, but it was better than nothing. It just sucked that it was too cold to take off everything. Doing it naked was ideal.

I felt Brittany's hand on my back, then I heard the sound of a zipper being pulled. Great, I was getting impatient as well – wait what no it was freezing out! Well okay, right now we were both in heat so it didn't really feel like it was cold. Ah well.

This all just got me excited. I grinded harder.

"San," Brittany moaned into my mouth.

That was it, we needed to rush this now, because I was going to melt. I decided to be the one to take off my uniform top, exposing my leopard print bra. Fucking bra, why was it even on? I was going to pull away to take it off, but then Brittany snuck her hands back onto my back and unhooked it for me. She always knew what to do, it was amazing.

Out went my bra, and now I was completely topless. Brittany's hands slithered over to my breasts and massaged them gently, a moan coming out of my mouth in response. My nipples were already hard because it was fucking freezing, but it also didn't help having Brittany's warm, soft, milky hands all over them. God, I loved her so fucking mu-

"Are you two having fun?"

That voice didn't belong to either of us.

Oh fuck!

Our lips disconnected instantly, and we both looked in the direction of the voice.

Pink hair. Punky clothes. What was that, Ed Hardy? She looked like something out of a fucking Van Halen music video. And was that a cigarette in her mouth? Ugh.

It was Quinn Fabray.

The same Quinn Fabray who wasn't supposed to know about Brittany and me.

Fuck!


	7. Mid August 2016

**Hey guys! So I can't really say I'm proud of this chapter. Not sure why, something about it kind of bothers me :\ but I hope you like it! Enjoy! :)**

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><p>I woke up in an empty bed. What time was it? Where was I? In my room. Yeah, I was in my room. But the shades were down, so I wasn't even sure what time of day it was.<p>

But I woke up in an empty bed. Why?

I got up, my hair loose and all over my face. "Honey?" I called out to Brittany, but I received no answer. Where the hell was she?

I got up from our bed and headed over the window to open the shades. Once I did so, my eyes were nearly blinded by the amount of sunshine that shot through my pupils. Fuck that was bright! I had to put my hands in front of my face before I lose my visual senses. Shit.

I turned away from the lights of hell and decided to head downstairs to look for my wife. Where the hell did she go? Oh God, she wasn't pulling an Izzy from Grey's Anatomy on me right? Izzy left her husband Alex when she had skin cancer, and was never seen again. Brittany didn't do that right? No, she would never do that to me. Yet paranoia grew inside of me like a life-sucking parasite.

I practically ran down the stairs calling Brittany, and I walked into the kitchen.

Oh thank God.

The beautiful blonde that married me just three years ago was sitting on our kitchen counter, looking down at something with a pen in her hand. I sighed in relief seeing that she didn't leave me, and I mentally scolded myself for being so ridiculous. Noticing my presence, Brittany looked up at me and smiled.

"Good morning!" she told me.

I was amazed at her energy this morning. Ever since she started chemotherapy, she hardly had energy for anything. And she tended to vomit a lot at random times. Radiation wasn't very comfortable I was sure, and it was definitely starting to show. Though not completely filled in yet, she was already starting to get purple rings under her eyes. Those beautiful sparkles I loved so much were never coming back, I finally realized, and her skin became even whiter than I thought it would get. She was in overall good shape since she wasn't a skeleton or balding, but she wasn't as good in shape as she was before the chemo. But the worst part? She had no sex drive, and that fucking sucked.

"Good morning," I responded, and I walked over to her and kissed her on the cheek. "How long have you been up?"

"Since five." Five in the morning? Jesus.

My eyes trailed down to the kitchen counter, where Brittany had what looked like a notepad that she covered with her hand. I blinked in curiosity as to what that was.

"Babe, what is that?" I asked her.

She looked down at her pad and smiled. "Oh! This?" She removed her hand and revealed a list. A list of what, I was about to check, but then she picked it up.

What the hell was that?

"It's a book it list."

I blinked. "A what?"

"A book it list. Y'know, that list of things you want to do before you die."

Okay no. I bit my lip to keep it from trembling.

"You mean a bucket list?"

She looked at the pad. "Oh! Yeah that. Wait, how does bucket make sense? I thought it was called a book it list because it's before you book it to wherever it is you're going after you die."

Could I just die and take her place? Please?

"Why are you making a bucket list?"

She looked at me like I had two heads. "Because I'm going to-"

I raised my hand. "Yes, I know please don't tell me again. But why? I mean, what's on it?"

She gave me a smile, like she couldn't wait to show me. "Look for yourself!" She held the pad out to me, and I grabbed it to read it.

"Okay…number one: successfully bake cookies with Santana."

"Because?"

I chuckled. "Because I always end up burning them when I try to bake."

"Read the next one!"

"Okay, okay. Number two: make a stuffed kitty at Build-A-Bear Workshop. Seriously?"

She nodded enthusiastically. This was a surprisingly simple gift, I though she was going to ask for the kind of stuff only achievable in movies, like sailing around the world or going to Paris or something.

"Number three: gather all the old glee kids and having an awesome party." I looked at her. "I hope you don't mean _everyone_." I was referring to Artie, because there was no way I was going to be in the same room as him.

"No of course not. Read the next one, it's my favorite."

At least Stubbles would never be mentioned. I looked down at the pad for the last thing she wrote, and I began to read it out loud.

"Number four…"

Wait. What did that say? Was I reading right? My mouth dropped. My eyes widened to much it looked like I didn't even have eyelids. Did I catch a late case of dyslexia? There was no way I was reading this correctly. Didn't Brittany know I never wanted one? Oh God. What the f…

"…have a baby."

When I looked up at her, she was smiling, a smile so bright and alive I almost forgot she was sick and dying. Sparkles were still not in her eyes, but they were bright and hopeful. She wanted a child. With me. Why? Did she not know I would never be mother material? I hated kids! I didn't want any, not even with…well, maybe with…damn it!

"Please," she said in a childish tone.

How could I say no to those beautiful, dead gems? But this was a very serious decision that I – _we_ – had to make. And plus, what was the point? Brittany wasn't going to live long enough to see the kid grow, she might've not been able to see the baby's first steps, she couldn't even…

Tears were streaming and I didn't even realize it until the smile disappeared on Brittany's face.

"Santana?"

"Why?" My tone was a mix of anger and sadness.

"What?"

"Why, Brittany, _why_? What's the point of having a kid if you're not gonna be around for it-"

"Her."

"Don't give it a gender! Don't even give it a name, because we're not having one! You're not doing this to me Britt. We can have a dog if you want, or a hamster or something. But I'm not having a kid!"

I began to sob, and Brittany got out of her seat and walked over to me quietly. Why was she making this more painful than it had to be?

"Santana," she called me as I felt her arms begin to wrap around me.

"No Britt." I pushed her away and looked at her in fury. "I can't have a kid with you. I won't! A kid needs a mother –"

"And she will-"

"Don't give it a fucking gender!" I screamed. My finger pointed at her and whipped around aggressively. "Why are you doing this Britt? You're making everything hurt more than it has to be. I just…I can't! I'm not doing this!" I whipped around so my back was facing her, and I continued to cry. I wasn't sure whether to be pissed or depressed. Maybe both.

Her arms wrapped around my waist, but this time I didn't fight back. Her head rested on my shoulder, and her lips lightly pecked my neck.

"Santana," she began. "I want this for us. I don't want you to be alone when I'm gone. At least with a tiny adorable baby I can give you something out of all this. A little piece of me that you can raise and take care of and everything! I just want you to be happy while I'm gone." She pulled me in and hugged me tighter. "Please San. Please."

I was silent for a long time, thinking about everything. All of this was too painful. The love of my life was dying, and she wanted to have a child as one last wish. I still didn't know what to do. Do I have a child with her that will remind me of the pain of losing her for the rest of my life? Or do I disobey her greatest wish and be alone to drown in my sorrow for the rest of my life? I wasn't sure what I wanted to do.

Yet my mouth came up with an answer.

"Okay."

I was whipped around by Brittany suddenly, and I came face-to-face with her, my face almost touching her skin.

"Really?" That smile that always made me happy appeared on her face once more.

"Yes." I didn't feel so sure. Yet I found myself saying yes.

She pulled me into a tight hug, and jumped slightly. "Oh San I'm so happy to hear that! I'm so happy, you have no idea! We're going to have the most adorable baby in the entire universe!"

I wanted to smile, but I couldn't.

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><p>"No shit, a kid?"<p>

I was sitting on the porch of my house with Puck. I had invited him over as soon as Brittany passed out to take a nap. She'd been taking a lot of naps lately.

I had a cigarette in hand. I promised Brittany I would stop smoking years ago, but there were times I just had to break that promise. Like now.

"Yep," I answered as I puffed a ball of smoke out of my mouth.

"Wow. How are you gonna…y'know… do it."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm going to attach penis to myself and have crazy trannie sex with my wife." I was sarcastic, of course. Maybe.

"That's hot," he joked.

"But seriously, I don't know. In vitro's pretty expensive. We can only afford this house with the help of both our parents. I don't want to make them pay for that procedure either."

"You could always have sex with a random guy."

I smacked him in the back of his head, which made him laugh.

"Hilarious Puckerman. I only have sex with one person."

"Yeah? And when was the last time you two got down and dirty?"

That shut me up. I looked away with a frown.

"That long huh?"

I put my face in my hands in frustration. "Chemo gives her like, no sex drive. It sucks ass."

He gave me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. Yeah, it really sucked to be horny every second of every day and not be able to satisfy the hunger. It was selfish of me to be so frustrated like that, but our marriage used to be full of sex, and it was our sign of a healthy marriage. I just hoped I wouldn't get too selfish and turned desperate to hop into bed with anyone else.

Puck was pretty lucky to be a single man. At least he could do whatever the hell he wanted.

"Who's gonna be the pregnant one anyway?"

Whoa, that's right. Brittany and I didn't say anything about who was carrying the kid. But clearly it couldn't be Brittany, the chemo would kill the thing in an instant. I guess I had no choice but to do it myself.

"I guess it's going to be me."

Puck's eyes widened. "Whoa, a pregnant Santana Lopez? I thought that was a myth."

I smacked him again.

"Shut up, Puckerman," I muttered.

"Well y'know, I never used condoms so I sort of expected you to-"

Another smack.

"How many times do I have to tell you to not bring up us having sex in high school?"

He laughed. "Sorry."

"Yeah. Now get out of here, Quinn is coming over."

Puck jumped out of his seat. "I guess I better go then."

I shook my head at his cowardice. "Whatever."

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><p>I stopped Quinn before she could enter Brittany and me's bedroom. Thank God the door was closed so Brittany couldn't hear me.<p>

"Wait, do I smell like smoke?" I asked her. I didn't want Brittany to have a fit if she found out I snuck in a cigarette.

Quinn leaned closer to me and sniffed to see if there was any smell of ash still covering me. I must've put an entire bottle of mouthwash in my mouth and around my face, plus I sprinkled some on my clothes too.

"You smell like a bottle of Listerine," she told me with a grimace.

I gave her a thumbs up. "Awesome."

I opened the door, where Brittany was sitting up in bed like she was expecting us. She flashed a smile to Quinn, then to me.

"Hi guys!" Maybe I was crazy, but I could've sworn she was starting to turn green.

"Hi Brittany," Quinn greeted her, and we both walked over to the bed and sat there so Brittany didn't have to get up. Brittany gave Quinn a tight hug, then pulled back, still smiling. She then blinked, and looked over at me.

"San, you smell like a bottle of leistering."

Quinn laughed, then corrected her. "Listerine."

I rolled my eyes and lied. "I accidentally spilled the bottle all over me."

Brittany shook her head. "Clumsy."

"So how are you feeling Britt?" Quinn asked her.

Brittany opened her mouth to answer, but it was like Quinn's question was the activator for what was going to happen next. Instead of words, a hand flew at Brittany mouth, kind of like she was going to…

Oh shit.

She ran towards our bathroom, and by instinct I ran after her, with Quinn behind me. Brittany practically slid on her knees to the toilet, and she stuck her head in there and did her business. The sound of vomiting was always gross, but I was so used to doing it when I had bulimia in high school it was almost comforting. All I could do was grab Brittany's hair and hold it back so she wouldn't get any grossness on her beautiful blonde strands.

"Is that all?" I asked her.

She took a moment to respond. "Yea-" but she vomited again. This time I looked away, not wanting to see her like this. Was the chemo really helping?

Quinn kneeled down and placed her hand on Brittany's back. "Hun? Everything okay now?"

Brittany took even longer to respond, just to see if she had to vomit again. When she was sure she wouldn't regurgitate again, she brought her head out and looked at Quinn.

"Okay, yeah I think I'm good."

Quinn stood up. "I'll go get you some juice, okay? I'll be right back." She sped out of the bathroom, leaving me alone with my dying wife.

Brittany looked over at me and smiled. "Hi."

I accidentally smiled, but I pushed it away as soon as I did. This wasn't something to joke about, she was dying right in front of my eyes!

"C'mon," I muttered as I grabbed her arm and pulled her up. "Let's get you back on the bed."

She had fast reflexes at that moment. In an instant she had pushed the toilet seat down and sat down on it, her hand suddenly attached to mine. Did the radiation give her superpowers or something?

"Mrs. Lopierce," she called me with a grin.

I sighed. "Other Mrs. Lopierce."

She placed her other hand on my hand as well, so my tan body part was covered with milky whiteness.

"Have I ever told you you're the bestest wife a girl could ever ask for?"

She was choosing now to be all lovey dovey and cute? What amazing timing.

"Don't," I sighed out. "I'm not in the mood right now."

She suddenly jumped up, which surprised me because I didn't even know she had the energy for that. "We're having a baby! You should be in the mood!"

I shook my head. "Britt. I don't want to talk about this right now."

She frowned. "Santana."

"What?"

She sat back down. Well, her mood certainly changed fast.

"You're sounding like high school Santana."

No. She was wrong. Hell no. I immediately shook my head furiously. "Don't say that."

"You are."

I stepped back from her. "Britt. Shut up."

"See? I didn't realize we were still in high scho-"

"Brittany! I said I don't want to fucking talk about it. So please, keep it at that. I don't want to fight!"

Thankfully Quinn walked in that moment with a glass of orange juice.

"Guys! I hope you're not fighting." She handed Brittany the glass and she received a smile as a thank you.

"Quinn! Santana and me are gonna have a baby!"

Thank God Brittany was given the orange juice, because I was pretty sure it would've been dropped by Quinn just like her jaw had been.

"What?"

Now I was getting pissed that Brittany was still bringing this subject up. I didn't want to talk about having that stupid kid right now. And we only just talked about it today, we had no plans yet! And I definitely wasn't even planning to tell Quinn yet until I knew for sure how we were getting this baby.

"Yeah! It's going to be a girl, and it's going to be the awesomest baby ever-"

"Will you shut up about that?" I yelled.

"No!" Brittany protested just as angrily. "You said yes San, so now we're having that darn baby, okay? I don't care if you don't want to talk about it, we're talking about it right now!"

Quinn raised her hands to try and get us to stop. "Guys, cut it out! I'm confused. You guys are having a baby?"

I rolled my eyes, not planning to answer. Brittany was the one who spoke.

"Yeah! We don't know how yet, but on my bucket list I wrote down that I want to have a baby!"

Sadness covered Quinn's face. "You have a bucket list?"

Brittany nodded. "You wanna see? I have it on my bed!" She got up and dragged Quinn into our room, with me lagging behind, silent.

Was I pissed or sad? I stood by the doorway of the bedroom, watching as Brittany showed Quinn her bucket list. Was having a kid with the one I loved so bad? Sure, she wouldn't be in the kid's life forever, but…she wanted it, right? So why was I so aggressive in the whole having a kid thing?

Brittany looked so happy showing Quinn her bucket list. But sorrow was in Quinn's hazel eyes, much like mine were. That list of Brittany's was just another reminder of how she was getting closer and closer to leaving us. All of us. Even the future child she wanted to badly.

This was just something I didn't want to witness. I spaced out, throwing myself into memories.


	8. Mid November 2011

**I'm SO sorry it took me like, a month to write this chapter. I was suffering from severe writer's block, but I finally managed to pull through and complete this chapter! So sorry for the wait guys! And not only do I have this chapter up, but I'm also working on a new fic as well! Yeehaw!**

**And also guys, I have a tumblr! mrsnayamarierivera[dot]tumblr[dot]com. Come down and say hello! :) Enjoy!**

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><p>Quinn Fabray knew about us.<p>

Shit!

I hadn't gotten much sleep since she found out, the fear of my secret being exposed ruining my desires to sleep. Was she going to tell on us? It'd been days since she found out, and I hadn't seen her since. That stupid pink-haired bitch, was she going to try shit?

When she found out, all she had done was smile after making her comment and walked away, leaving a half-naked me and a heated up Brittany in the icy November weather under the bleachers. Paranoia reached a whole new level with me, and I was sure Quinn was going to rat me out. After all, we hadn't been friends since last year, and she got all fucked up in the head after Finn screwed her over for that stupid Jew.

I was so fucked, everyone was going to find out.

My hands were shaking as I searched for my needed book in my locker. School sucked now as I was almost pissing myself looking to see if anyone was giving me dirty looks or talking behind my back. So far it appeared that no one knew my secret, but maybe people were playing me. I was going to die, oh my God.

When I closed my locker, I jumped at the sight of a smirking Puckerman leaning against the locker next to me.

"Jesus Puck, don't fucking pop out of nowhere like that!" I snapped.

The smirk didn't disappear from his face. Oh shit, did he know?

"So jumpy Lopez, relax."

Oh God, he knew didn't he? His smirk was giving me a heart attack.

"What do you want Puck?" I rolled my eyes, trying to pass off that I was perfectly calm but my racing heart would've said otherwise.

He suddenly snapped his fingers and spun around so he was on the other side of me. His look wasn't that of knowing something, but rather…victorious. Like he won something. Did he finally find a new fuck buddy?

"Guess who's Quinn Fabray's latest lovuh?"

I grimaced. Ew, Quinn and Puck? Well wait, no that couple actually made sense. Both punks, both total losers. Wow, it was a match made in hell. But since when was Puckerman interested in someone like Quinn? Did the whole bad girl image turn him on? Yeah. That made sense.

"Ugh, you and Quinn? Gross."

The smirk disappeared from his face. "What's wrong with that?"

I was going to be brutally honest with him. "Sorry Puckerman, everyone knows Sam and Quinn are meant to be."

Now he looked pissed. Did he want to fight? I had no problem with that. I was going to have beat the shit out of his girlfriend anyway since she found out about me.

"What the fuck, Santana?" He was being defensive, which just told me that he knew I was right. "Sam and Quinn are over. Quinn dumped his ass for Finn."

I laughed. "Is that what you think? Oh Puck, you're so fucking retarded." I sympathetically pat his shoulder, a cruel smile on my face. "There was a legitimate reason why Quinn went with Finn, but hey, guess there's no point in talking about that." I began to walk away but Puck suddenly grabbed my arm, a little rougher than I would've wanted but I expected it.

"Santana, what the fuck are you talking about?"

Everything I was saying was bullshit of course, I just wanted to attack Quinn before she attacked me and told everyone I was a lesbian. It was better to at least hit first, right? She really did leave Sam for Finn, the dumbass, and I didn't even know if Quinn still had feelings for the thick-lipped blonde. I only knew from Sam's end, as it was obvious that he still wasn't over her. But I wanted to start a fight, just 'cause.

I bit my lip to keep myself from laughing, but I was still grinning. This was getting to be really fun.

"They still love each other Puckerman," I told him, telling a half-truth. "Quinn just has a horrible habit of dropping things that make her happy. She's a spoiled rich white girl, after all."

Puck's face hardened, and his dark eyes looked like they were going to shoot lasers at me. I was sure I succeeded with putting the idea in his head that his girlfriend was possibly cheating on him emotionally. Good, if Quinn was going to fuck up my life the least I could do was fuck around with hers.

"Keep a close eye on her Noah." I only said his first name whenever I was mocking him. "Just saying." I shrugged and finally walked away, leaving Puck to think about what I just said.

I didn't walk too far down the hall when Brittany appeared at my side, a smile on her face. I could never really tell if she smiled just because she saw me, or that she just liked to smile. Either way, her smile made me smile, and the butterflies started to kick in.

"Hi!" she said cheerfully.

"Hey."

She held out a piece of paper and waved it excitedly.

"Guess what I got on my special ed math test?" Her smile grew, and she held it up to my face so I could see the grade.

A C-plus.

"Oh my God!" I jumped up at her success, and I immediately pulled her into a hug. Of course, I wanted to kiss her – or better yet, drag her into a corner and reward her the Santana Lopez way - but the boundaries of being a closeted lesbian kept me from such affection. She was going to get some later though, I planned on it.

"I know! I'm so happy that tooters do something other than just help you snort cocaine!"

I laughed, choosing to not correct her. "Well Miss Pierce, I'm very proud of you."

Her eyes sparkled like mad at my approval, and I fell in love with her all over again. Falling in love felt awesome, especially when the person loved you back. I was so happy to be hers.

She decided to push it a little and pecked me on the cheek, but I wasn't upset. No one would think anything more about a kiss on the cheek. But damn it, I wanted so much more at that moment.

"So you're not going to be mad if Artie keeps tutoring me?"

My stomach pulsed with anger at the mention of Stubbles, but we already had an argument over this and I knew I needed to calm down. I didn't want to lose her because I was being totally stupid and jealous, even if she was too good for me. I forced a smile at the moment, so she could at least believe I didn't have a problem with it.

"If he keeps making sure you have grades like that, I'm perfectly fine with it."

She hopped up and down excitedly, and I could tell that she wanted to kiss me just as much as I wanted to kiss her.

Quinn was going to tell everyone anyway. Why not?

No, not yet. I wasn't going to push myself out of the closet. And plus, I wasn't even sure Quinn was going to out me. Though I guess I should've thought about that before I decided to mess with her new relationship. Oops.

"I have cooking class now, so I'll see you later?" She squeezed my hand lovingly, trying to substitute it for a kiss.

I smiled. "Of course."

Normal couples would've kissed each other goodbye, but we simply nodded at each other, just imagining us being openly affectionate and kissing each other. Why the fuck didn't God make me a guy? Shit would've been so much easier.

Brittany turned to leave, and I just stood there to watch her. I had gym, I was in no rush.

The back of her head was just as cute as the front.

But then the perfect image was ruined by the appearance of a wheelchair fucktard rolling right in front of Brittany and smiling at her. Ugh, that look in his eyes. It was disgusting. Could he make it any more obvious that he was still into _my_ girlfriend? At least I knew Brittany wasn't into him like that, she saved the looks of admiration for me. I had no reason to be jealous. She was mine.

I still didn't want to witness this scene though. I quickly turned around and rushed down the hall. Did I seriously want to go to gym? Nah, I would definitely cut.

As I turned the corner, I saw a group of football players hunched up together by a few lockers. I paid no mind to it at it first, and just walked by, but when I heard the banging noise of something being hit against a locker and the cry of a familiar voice, I turned around.

Was that Kurt?

"C'mon faggot," said one of the football morons, Karofsky. "Fight back for once! Stop being a typical fag!"

Shit, I had to do something.

"Go away Karofksy. And tell your band of meatheads to piss off too!"

"Oh, Hummel grew some balls!" A bang sound.

I immediately ran over and pushed one of the assholes away to get to Kurt.

"Hey dickwads, leave him alone!" I yelled, turning to face all of them and shielding Kurt. Kurt had to deal with their shit everyday, especially since he first came out. Unfortunately what he was going through was the exact same thing I feared would happen to me if I ever came out. Surely Brittany understood that?

Karofsky smirked. "Oh, hey there Santana. What's a fine thang like you doing here?"

Okay, gross. "You did not just say 'thang'. Please, leave retarded-sounding gangster words to Biggie Smalls over there." I gestured at Azimio, whose cocky smile disappeared immediately at my rather racist and insulting remark. I was Santana fucking Lopez, what did you expect?

"Oh c'mon baby that was unnecessary," Azimio muttered.

I raised a finger at him. "Don't call me baby. Please."

"_Anyway_, get out of our way Santana, we're not done with Mr. Faggot over there," Karofsky said.

I crossed my arms and straightened up so he knew that I wasn't going to budge. "How about you fuck off Karofsky? Or do I have to rip you a new one?"

Karofsky took a step forward, and his hand twitched like he was about to use it. Was he about to hit me? Really? What a pussy, hitting a girl. I almost dared him to. I burned into his skin with my gaze, daring him to make a move. And he was going to, I could tell. His hand twitched again and his mouth opened to say something, but someone else's voice behind him was heard instead.

"Hey! Leave my brother alone!" The voice of Jigglyboobs McJiggleson.

Finn grabbed Karofsky from behind and pulled him away from Kurt and me, putting his fists up like he wanted to go all Street Fighter on someone. It was fucking hilarious, and I couldn't help but let out a laugh. Finn looked at me for a moment, confused at what I was laughing at, but his eyes went back to Karofsky.

"Oh look, it's Butt Boy's gay twin," Karofsky growled.

Finn's face was as red as the zit on Karofsky's forehead - gross - and he looked like he was constipated with fury. It was always fun watching him get pissed, he was like a two-year-old throwing a temper tantrum.

"Shut up Karofsky!" Finn pushed Karofsky, but then Azimio jumped in and grabbed Finn. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do, so I just stood by Kurt to make sure that he wasn't harmed.

"Yo Finn, calm the hell down and stop helping out Homo over here!"

Karofsky just stared at Finn furiously, and Finn seemed to calm down for a moment. I could tell that he still wanted to punch Karofsky, but considering he was greatly outnumbered it didn't seem to be a good idea to start a fight.

"Get off me man," he yelled at Azimio, shaking him off. He stepped backwards so he was near Kurt and me, and he stared at each football player individually to make sure they didn't try anything.

I decided to chime in. "Well if you guys have had enough gay bashing for one day, I'll be taking Kurt to a non-asshole zone." I grabbed Kurt's arm and began to pull him away.

Karofsky took a step towards us, but Finn mimicked him by stepping closer to him. He was definitely willing to start a fight if Karofsky was going to continue being a dick, and I didn't want to be around when that happened. Well, I kind of did but I didn't want Kurt to accidentally get hurt because of them.

"Leave it Karofsky," Finn demanded.

Finn was giving us a head start, so I pulled Kurt away and down the hall. I wasn't going to bother looking back, it was deadly silent behind us and I'm sure it was because Finn and Karofsky were having an intense stare-down. Good for them.

"Thanks Santana," Kurt told me quietly, looking down at his feet. I smiled at him and patted his shoulder.

"Any time. I just can't believe it's our senior year and they're still being assholes."

Kurt bit his lip, and even though he wasn't looking at me I could see his eyes beginning to water. Oh no, I couldn't handle him crying in front of me. I always felt useless when someone cried in front of me because I never knew what to do.

"Hey," I told him, stopping him and lifting his chin in my finger so he was forced to look at me. "Don't cry."

Me telling him not to try just caused him to break down and sob. Damn it.

All that I felt like I could do was hold him, so I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a hug. Why the hell was he deciding to cry right now? Couldn't he go to Berry or someone else who was able to handle this kind of thing?

"Sometimes I really wish I never came out Santana," he cried into my shoulder. I patted him lightly on his back, not really planning to let go of our hug.

"Don't say that Kurt," I told him, but I was lying because he really shouldn't have. He was perfectly fine until he came out, and now every day was hell for him because of that. Exactly why I would never come out.

"No, it's true. Everyone here is so cruel, and they don't even know me!" He pulled away from me and wiped his eyes. "I know I should be happy that I'm able to be myself, but I'm so afraid all the time."

I ran my fingers through Kurt's hair sympathetically. Holy shit, it was soft. If Brittany felt a chunk of this she would never let it go. Gay guys have such pretty hair.

"No Kurt, don't regret what you did," I was talking out of my ass now. But if lying made him feel better then whatever. "You're brave. A lot of people here are just a bunch of pussies." Like me. "You have no idea how many people would kill to be just like you."

Kurt smiled at me, his bright blue eyes moist but no longer running. But the way he was looking at me almost made me want to tell him that I was one of those pussies. That I was the complete opposite of him. Artie and Quinn were the only ones who knew about us, what's one more person going to hurt? Kurt was gay, he would understand me.

But I couldn't tell him. Artie only knew because he used logic. And Quinn only knew because she walked in on me and Brittany. I never thought of telling anyone. So I kept silent.

"Thanks so much Santana," Kurt told me. His eyes were looking less puffy now, which meant he wasn't going to cry anymore. Good. "I'm sorry that I call you Satan behind your back."

What the f-. I squinted my eyes at him, but I decided to not pursue the subject. I was trying to be nice and he was lucky, so I would let him off the hook this time. "Just…go," I muttered.

Kurt gave me one last smile before walking away. I followed him for a couple of steps until I stopped by a corner, and I leaned against the wall with my arms crossed. I couldn't help but watch Kurt as he walked away. Even after he nearly had his face pounded into he still walked with such grace and confidence. I admired him. He was what I wanted to be.

And I was sure he was what Brittany wanted me to be as well.

"Wow, look at Santana being a saint."

The voice was behind me. I turned around and came face-to-face with the world's largest pink-haired STD.

"Quinn," I muttered. What was she doing here? And how much did she see?

There was a cigarette in her hand – a lit cigarette at that – and she blew out a puff of smoke before smiling at me. This new Quinn was really gross, even for my standards. I preferred it when she was a clean, innocent Sandra Dee who was repulsed by the thought of sex before marriage and was as tight as a latex gimp suit. Now I'm sure she had every STD known to man and was probably looser than I was.

"You've been full of surprises lately Santana," she told me with a smirk. Was she trying to say something?

"Same with you, Q. I don't know which is grosser, the fact that you're now addicted to Marlboro or you're letting Puck inside of you on a daily basis." I grimaced.

She laughed and inhaled more smoke from that little white cig of hers. It was traumatizing just watching her. I smoked a lot – something Britt didn't really approve of – but it was completely different watching Quinn do it. It just…it wasn't right.

"I guess you can say I found myself," she told me as she exhaled smoke.

I rolled my eyes. "This isn't finding yourself Quinn. This is you having a mental breakdown because you can never seem to let yourself be happy."

The smirk vanished from her face immediately and was replaced with a defined frown. Oh, that hit a nerve, she looked pissed. I smirked instead. If she wanted to fight I had no problem with it.

"Says the one who's too scared to even tell Kurt that she's in love with another girl."

Oh hell no. I gritted my teeth and stomped over to her so I was only a few inches from her face. "Shut the fuck up Quinn."

She inhaled more smoke and blows it in my face, making me cough and wave it away. I had no problem ripping her stupid Pepto-Bismol hair out of her fucking scalp.

"I'm not here to attack you Santana," she said quietly, but she was still smirking which confused me.

"Then what the fuck are you here for Q? You're no longer relevant in my life since you shut me and the entire glee club out."

Her smirked weakened but not because she was hurt. She was trying to get serious.

"You're hurting Santana," she whispered. She dropped her cigarette and stepped on it with her biker boot to put it out. "Now I understand why you've been like this all these years. You've held everything inside and as retaliation you attack everyone."

I stepped away. "Don't fucking act like you know me Quinn."

"But I do San. I've known you for four years. Don't think I don't know you."

I pointed an accusing finger at her. "If anything it's you that doesn't know you. Figure yourself out first before accusing me of being a bitch because of these internal feelings you claim I have."

Her hazel eyes looked away for a moment, and I could tell she was seriously thinking about what I said. I didn't even know her anymore. She'd been fucked up ever since she broke up with Sam - even though everyone thought it was after she broke up with Finn, but I knew better than that because she was crazy for breaking up with Sam in the first place – and she was this new nicotine addict that was just…ugh, gross.

"You're fucking crazy for letting Sam date Oprah," I continued. Her bottom lip twitched. I hit a soft spot.

"Sam likes Mercedes now," she told me coolly. "He deserves better. I'm happy for him."

I let out an obnoxious laugh. "You're kidding me, right? He might be a nerd but he was good for you Quinn. I don't know what's with you and ruining everything that makes you happy but –"

"I didn't come here to talk about me and Sam, Santana!" she snapped.

"And I'm not here to talk about me and Britt," I snapped back.

She opened her mouth to say something else, but she was so mad and frustrated that all she let out was a groan. "I give up, Santana. You're impossible to talk to." But look who's talking? God. She turned around to leave, but she looked back and said something before she walked away.

"Just know I'm not planning to tell anyone about you and Brittany, okay?"

Well, that statement actually made me feel like shit and regret fell on my shoulders for what I told Puck. Even when she was bat-shit she was still my friend to an extent, and as usual I repaid her by being an asshole. Now, as she walked down the hall and out of sight, I could only hope that Puck wouldn't bring up Sam in conversation.

Fuck.

* * *

><p>"So you want to have a baby, Brittany?" Quinn asked Brittany after they finished going through her bucket list.<p>

Brittany nodded enthusiastically, and I bit my lip.

"Well." Quinn smiled and looked directly at me. There was sadness in her eyes but there was also plea in them. "I think that's a great idea."

I had to break the gaze. I looked at the door. If I looked at Quinn any longer I would end up crying. I couldn't believe she was on Brittany's side.

I couldn't deny Brittany this wish. It wasn't fair to her. It was her bucket list for God's sake. I admit, I was being selfish on my part because I didn't want to deal with the kid after Brittany's death. But if Brittany wanted it, how could I say no?

I didn't want to do it. But it had to be for her.

I looked in Quinn and Brittany's direction, and now they were both looking at me. Blue and hazel eyes. Staring right into my soul. _Please Santana_, they told me. _Don't stop us._

I couldn't. I needed to do this.

I swallowed hard. Even my heart was telling me to do this for Brittany. It ached on purpose to push me to say the words. _Say them Santana_, my heart pleaded. _For Brittany. For you._

"I guess we'll have to figure out how we're going to make this work."

That was the closest I'd been to making Brittany's eyes sparkle again.


	9. Late August 2016

**Hey guys! I'm so emotional right now because of tonight's episode of Glee. That Brittana moment gave me such waves of inspiration for this piece, so I'm sure I'll be updating more frequently now (or at least as frequent as my mid-terms allow). But anyway, I'm actually curious for your thoughts on the story so far. Reviews would are greatly appreciated! (or just talk to me on my tumblr mrsnayamarierivera) This chapter's just a pinch depressing, so...I'm not sure whether to tell you to enjoy it or none. Haha.**

* * *

><p>I jumped next to Brittany while she watched Saturday morning cartoons. I was never into those cartoons as a kid, but considering Brittany never really grew up like I did, she took pleasure in them. I let her do whatever she wanted, I had always been fine with her not acting her age. She had her moments where she was even wiser than me.<p>

"Babe." I placed my hand on hers and stroked it gently. "You hungry?"

Since she was in charge of the cooking, it concerned me that she'd been up all morning and didn't make any breakfast. Not for me, but for herself. Chemo killed appetite sometimes, and that explained why she didn't bother making herself anything. But she needed to eat or else she would be weak.

She tiredly diverted her attention from the TV to me. God, she looked so exhausted. She was up all night vomiting her ass off, and I was sure she only got a couple of winks of sleep afterwards. It was stupid of me to ask if she was hungry since she probably didn't want to see food for a long time, but she really needed to eat.

"I don't know," she replied, and she weakly smiled at me. "Are you?"

"Only if you are." I was starving actually, but I didn't want to tell her that or else she'd feel guilty for making me hold up my appetite.

She always chose others over herself. I wasn't surprised when she nodded her head. "Okay."

I grabbed her hand and pulled her off the couch. I had no idea what the fuck I was going to make her since I wasn't a master chef, but maybe some eggs wouldn't be too hard to make. You just put them in the pan and wait, right? It was worth a shot.

"Alright, you've been privileged with the opportunity to watch Chef Lopierce shine as she attempts to make eggs for her beautiful wife," I announce in a deep manly voice, helping her sit at the kitchen island by pulling out her seat for her and pushing it in when she sat down. She giggled at my silliness, and it made me smile and temporarily forget for just a few seconds that she was sick.

"Oh I can't wait!" She bounced in her chair and clapped in excitement. Yes, that was the Brittany I remembered.

"Okay um…" Where do I start? Oh right. I opened the fridge to take out the carton of eggs. Yeah, this looked easy.

It was just unsettling that I had Brittany's eyes burning into my skin. Quite distracting.

I closed the fridge door and opened a cabinet to take out a pan. There were different sizes of pans, and I wasn't even sure which to choose. But I settled on a medium-sized one since that looked like it could hold enough eggs, and I turned the stove on. I didn't burn anything yet, so that was a good sign.

"How did you sleep last night?" I heard Brittany ask. Sometimes I hated it when she cared more about me than herself, she was the one who needed the sleep. I placed the pan on the stove and then took out an egg from the carton.

"Alright," I told her. "How are you feeling?"

"Better!" I loved to hear her cheerfulness but something told me she was just putting on a face so I felt better.

I inspected the egg to see how I should crack it. Brittany made it look so easy, so maybe it was that easy. I grabbed the egg with both hands on both ends and tapped it lightly against the rim of the pan. Nothing. "Fuck."

I tried again, a little harder this time. It cracked slightly but not enough for the insides to pour out.

I gritted my teeth. What, this egg though it was better than me? _I'm_ _Santana fucking Lopierce_, I thought to myself. _My own fucking eggs are superior to this one_.

Angrily, I smashed the egg down. Yolk flew everywhere, from one of the knobs on the stove to my face. The slimy feeling of an unborn baby chick was really freaking gross, and my face was so red with anger I would be able to just cook what was left of the egg on my face.

Brittany broke into hysterical laughter. It was the most I'd heard her laugh in a while, and my anger quickly downgraded to extreme annoyance. I turned around and looked at her, and she got up from her seat and walked over to me.

"I'm fine with just having breakfast on your face," she joked, her pale face actually red from all the laughter. It was nice to see color on her face.

I rolled my eyes. Stupid egg. "I can make something as simple as eggs. I know I can. Fucking-" I stopped myself before I could go on a cursing rampage. I brought my hand up to wipe the egg off, but Brittany surprised me by grabbing my hand.

"Babe. It's okay," she told me quietly, smiling still. She leaned into my face, but instead of kissing me like I anticipated, she began to lick with egg off.

It tickled too. "Britt, what the hell are you doing?" I asked her with a chuckle.

Her tongue brushed along my left cheek, where most of the egg was. It was a bit gross to lick uncooked egg, but the feeling of her soft, wet tongue sent tingly sensations down my loins as I was reminded of how things used to be before she was diagnosed.

How long had it been since we had sex?

Her tongue moved to my nose. No, I didn't want it on my nose. I wanted it on my lips. And…well, somewhere else.

"Britt," I whispered.

She didn't answer me, but she was a smart girl because she knew exactly what I wanted. Her tongue moved from my nose straight down to my mouth. Yes. My mouth started to open to allow it entrance.

But just as I opened my mouth she swiftly moved it down to my chin. Ugh, was she being a cocktease again? I hated it when she did that.

I took a step back toward the kitchen island. Maybe I could be a tease too. But, since Brittany always won, she followed my lead and pushed me gently against the kitchen island.

Damn I thought I was getting somewhere.

I grabbed the edge of the kitchen island with both hands just as Brittany placed one hand on my neck. Her tongue trailed its way to the left side of my neck. Oh my _God_.

"Britt…"

Her tongue retracted back into her mouth and now she kissed me lightly on the neck. Soft, feathery kisses. But even the lightest kiss from her could make my panties explode. Just like right now.

Her hand moved down from my neck to my right breast. She squeezed it lightly, making me gasp. No, she couldn't be a tease now. Not after going without sex for so long.

"Britt…I swear if you don't stop teasing me…"

The crackling of the stove behind her seemed to agree with me.

For once, she obeyed me. Her hand that was on my breast went back up to my neck. She didn't stop kissing my neck, but now her kisses were slower and more sensual. I felt her unused hand pulling on the waistband of my pajama shorts. _Yes_.

Her long, slender fingers slithered into my shorts, right under the underwear. She was able to feel the wetness in my panties, but I wished that I could tell if she was turned on by it. She must've been, since she kept going.

Her pointer finger pressed against my clit.

"Britt!" I gasped.

She went from my neck to my ear and nibbled on it lightly. I was breathing heavily at this point, but I was conscious of the fact that she seemed indifferent. Usually she was breathing like she was asthmatic along with me, but she seemed perfectly normal.

Weird. But the pleasure was distracting me at the moment.

"Britt, please," I begged. I wanted her so badly. It'd been way too long.

Her finger began to rub my clit, and that sensation alone almost brought up my orgasm. But I fought it, I wanted to savor the moment. But I couldn't hide the loud moan of pleasure when she did so. It felt so fucking good.

She sucked harder on my ear. She deserved an award for being such a tease.

Her breathing was still normal though.

Why was is normal?

But why would I care right now, we were so close to-

But no. It was a thousand times better if she was just as pleasured.

And at this point she would usually be moaning to my moans.

Why wasn't she moaning?

Wait.

Another moan came up my throat, but I gulped it down. Something wasn't right. There was no heat between us. I was the only one giving out heat. Usually it was a million degrees in the room every time me and Brittany were having sex. But her skin was cold and inanimate.

Was she…not turned on at all?

"Britt." I placed my hands on her shoulders and pushed her back. "_Britt_."

She stopped rubbing me and looked at me in confusion. "What is it?"

I looked into her dead blue eyes. Her face wasn't even its usual tomato redness like it always was when she was turned on. What the fuck.

Alarmed, Brittany quickly yanked her hand out of my shorts. As she did so, I quickly shoved my hands into her own pants. She gasped, but in surprise not in pleasure.

She was completely dry down there. Not an ounce of moisture.

"Britt, you're not even turned on, are you?" I growled.

Her lower lip quivered as she looked at me with guilt. Her face said everything.

I took my hand out of her pants and leaned back into the kitchen island. I wasn't even sure what to say to her right now. I understood that she was just doing it for me, but I cared about her too much to have sex with her when she wasn't even enjoying it.

"I'm sorry Santana," she told me quietly.

I shook my head and crossed my arms. I knew exactly why she wasn't turned on – that fucking chemo. It killed her sex drive completely. I could tell right off the bat this was going to be a problem. Britt and I's marriage practically revolved around sex – not in a using each other sort of thing, it was just the way it'd been since high school. Losing that major factor could be a problem for us. And considering I was sexually frustrated as it was, it was only going to get worse if this kept going on.

"Britt," I finally sighed out. "Please. If you're never in the mood to have sex tell me, okay? It's unfair to you if I'm the only one having fun with it."

Her eyes began to water, which made my heart skip a beat in surprise. Whoa, I didn't want to make her cry, what was she doing?

"I wanted it Santana," she told me. "I really did." Tears began to flow down her cheeks, which made me panic. I didn't want her breaking down in front of me.

"Honey…" I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug. "It's okay. I know you did. You just can't right now. It's okay."

She sobbed into my shoulder. She was probably more frustrated than I was, and I wasn't sure what I was going to do with her. I thought about what I could do to distract her for a little while. Then, I thought of a brilliant idea.

"Why don't I invite Quinn over, and we can talk about how we're going to get that baby?"

She stopped crying immediately. She pulled away from me and a huge smile was on her face. God, I was a genius.

She nodded cheerfully. I knew baby talk would solve the problem.

"Okay!"

* * *

><p>"Surrogacy costs even more than regular IVF," Quinn said with a sigh.<p>

We were in Britt and me's bedroom. Brittany and Quinn were sitting on my bed while I was leaning against the dresser, arms crossed. We'd been discussing possible ways of getting a kid for a good hour, and we still didn't find a solution.

While I just wanted to get a kid the fast and easy way and just adopt, Brittany wanted to be complicated and get a kid that could be biologically ours. But considering that it was impossible for two females to mate – and I actually had to explain this to her – Brittany finally decided she wanted to do in vitro fertilization. But that was super expensive.

"Well, Brittany can't get pregnant, and I don't want to get fat," I said.

Quinn frowned at me. "Seriously. You're worried about gaining a couple of pounds?"

I turned to Brittany. "Can't we just adopt a kid that would look like ours? Maybe from Mexico or something?" I'm not even Mexican but whatever.

"No Sannie. I want a baby that's actually ours. Well, one of ours. But then the baby can be both of ours."

She was being so frustrating, oh my God.

"So let's have Quinn carry the damn baby then," I growled. Brittany sighed in defeat.

"I'm going to go get some apple juice," she told us randomly, getting up from the bed. "I'll be right back." She gave me a quick glance before turning around and leaving the room.

Quinn scowled at me. "Santana, what the hell is wrong with you?"

I raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"This is one of your wife's dying wishes and you're concerned about gaining weight?"

I looked at her before loosening up and sitting on the edge of the bed. I hung my head and rubbed the back of my neck in frustration. That wasn't why I didn't want to get pregnant.

"It's not that," I admitted to her. "I could care less about gaining weight. I just…" I placed my face into my hands. I could feel tears coming but nothing poured out. I was such a mess.

I could feel Quinn move around on the bed, and then I felt her hand on my back. "What is it, Santana?" she asked me.

"I don't want to go through this Quinn," I finally told her. I took my face out of my hands and look at her. The area around my eyes was moist, but I wasn't crying. "I don't want to have to deal with carrying this kid while she's dying at the same time. It isn't fair."

She gnawed on her bottom lip and tilted her head. Her face screamed pity and I wasn't so sure I liked that either. I didn't need pity, I didn't need sympathy. I just needed a way out of all this. Preferably the cure for cancer being discovered tomorrow.

"Santana…" Hearing my name just made me break down sobbing. That was a weird reason to snap, but crying was long overdue.

She rubbed my back sympathetically before speaking again. "Brittany's doing this for you. She just wants you to know that she'll be here even after she's gone."

I got frustrated with her answer. That wasn't what I wanted to hear at all, another reminder than my wife was dying and there was nothing I could do to stop it. "No!" I snapped. "What I want more than anything is for her to be healed. You have no idea what it's like to watch your soul mate die, Quinn. Your _soul mate_. As in your other half, the other person who's supposed to live and die with you."

I jumped up from the bed and spun around to face her. I was just letting off steam, and she was unfortunate enough to be my target for it. But I wasn't sorry. Not now, anyway.

"I'm dying with her Quinn. Except when we both die, _I'm_ still going to be here. I'm going to be a meaningless, empty shell of a person because the one thing I need to live won't be around anymore." The heat on my face evaporated my tears. I was furious, not sad. I just wanted to punch something. Where the hell was Puck? I would've loved to punch Puck.

"It fucking sucks Quinn. What am I supposed to do when she's gone? I'm going to be in pain for the rest of my life. My life has no meaning without her. I love her too fucking much, I just…I can't do anything of this." I slammed my fist against the wall in anger, but then I began to cry again. None of this was fair. Why the fuck was all this happening?

"Santana?" That wasn't Quinn's voice.

I quickly turned around and swallowed the rest of my oncoming tears. Shit, I didn't want Brittany to see me like this. Though she saw enough, I wiped my eyes anyway. The side of my hand stung from smacking the wall, and I could've sworn there was a slight dent in the wall where I hit it.

"Hey Britt," I muttered. She was holding a glass of apple juice and was staring at me with wide, lifeless blue eyes.

Quinn was looking back and forth between us, eager to see what was going to happen next. Yeah, this all seemed like one big fucked up TV show.

Brittany ran over to me – or walked with haste, because she was careful not to spill her glass of apple juice – and wrapped one arm around me. I felt like crying again, but I fought it back this time. No more crying in front of her, I wouldn't allow it.

"I'll have the baby," I whispered into her ear, though I said it before I actually thought about what I said. That wasn't supposed to be decided right now. My emotions – my heart actually, was telling me to just do it. If Brittany wanted a baby, I'd do it for her.

She pulled away and gave me a smile, and I saw that her eyes were red with salty tears. She always felt like crying whenever she saw me cry, she was just connected to me like that.

"It's expensive," she told me, her smile weakening. Oh, _now_ she was worried about the cost? I wasn't sure whether to laugh or scowl at her statement. But at least she cared.

"I'll go into my life savings, okay babe?"

She shook her head. "Santana no-"

I wasn't going to have her disagree with me after I finally agreed to bear her child. "That's it. I'll make the appointment tomorrow."

She choked out a laugh and tears fell down her face. Happy tears. As long as they weren't sad I would allow her to cry.

She leaned in to give me a long-lasting kiss. I savored it, enjoyed it. If we weren't having sex we at least needed to kiss a million times a day. As long as she was still able to kiss me, nothing else mattered.

It was just awkward that Quinn was right there next to us, but I wasn't too concerned about that right now.

* * *

><p>"You're a fucking saint for helping me out with this," I said to Quinn as I handed her a big pot.<p>

She laughed, putting the pot under the faucet then filling it with water. "I don't think you're supposed to put 'fuck' and 'saint' together Santana."

But she was a saint. She offered to stay late and help with the cooking since Brittany was too exhausted for another vomit fest a couple of hours ago and I had the cooking skills of a kindergartner. Actually, a kindergartener probably cooked better than me.

"Whatever. But thanks."

"Pass me the potatoes." She turned off the faucet and put the pot on the stove.

I opened the fridge and took out a sack of potatoes for Quinn to use. She was making chicken cutlets with mashed potatoes on the side. Just hearing the combination made my mouth water and my stomach growl. Why the fuck couldn't I cook like that?

I gave Quinn the potatoes, humming a random song as I did so. I watched her work her magic while I sat right on top of the kitchen island, not bothering to sit on a chair like a normal person for no reason at all.

"That song is so old," Quinn remarked while skinning the potatoes with a kitchen knife.

I smiled. "I love Amy Winehouse." I was humming Rehab, which came out like, ten years ago. I was devastated when she passed away a few years prior, she was my idol.

"You were a master at her songs." Quinn chuckled. "I remember telling you to lay off the cigarettes before you ended up losing your voice."

I smiled at the memories. "Says the one who smoked like an old man at a cigar shop during senior year."

Her face hardened. Oops, I probably shouldn't have brought that up.

"A lot happened senior year," she said in a deep and serious voice. Yeah, she was right though. I didn't want to think of senior year because the memories were too painful.

I quickly changed the subject. "So. I haven't seen Trouty Mouth for a while. Where has he been?"

I hoped my change of topic would loosen her up a little, but my mentioning of Sam just made her flinch and frown. Shit, what did I say wrong?

She was silent for a while, and my throat tightened in anxiety. Seriously, what did I do to make her look so…hurt? Why was she hurt? Oh God, her and Sam didn't break up did they?

"Sam and I aren't doing too well right now," she finally admitted. Now she was skinning the potatoes a little more aggressively.

I tilted my head to the side. "What? But you guys are invincible together."

She almost cut her finger with the next scrape. I was just saying all the wrong things today.

"It's just…we don't see each other as often. And we live together." She placed the skinless potato into an empty bowl she set up. She didn't grab another potato, instead she grabbed the edge of the kitchen counter with both hands and leaned against it. I bit my lip.

"I'm too busy at the hospital and then he's always too busy with his stupid bar. His stupid bar that my parents helped _pay_ for." She angrily grabbed a potato and went knife crazy on it. "You won't believe the ridiculous hours he works until. Who the hell manages a bar until one in the morning?" She was finished with the potato lightning fast because she threw it into the bowl before I even had a chance to blink.

"Quinn the guy's had the bar for like a year, he just needs time to adjust to owning one." And his bar was pretty decent too, I visited there with Brittany a couple of times.

"I know," she sighed out, sounding calm suddenly. Uh-oh, she was turning crazy again. And I was right because she got worked up again. "I just…" She held an untouched potato in her hand and stared at it. "I just miss the romance, you know? He used to be so sweet and corny, buying me flowers every day and sometimes chocolate too. Where's that Sam?"

Sam never changed. He was always that kid from high school that fell in love way too quickly, socially awkward with his stupid science fiction film references, getting romance tips from the chick flicks Quinn always made him watch. He was a dork, but the sweetest guy anyone could ever have. Quinn was stupid for breaking up with him in junior year, and to this day I still couldn't believe it. But Quinn was smart now. Well, she was until right now, I had to question it now.

"I love him, so much. I'm not saying we should get married yet, even though we act like we're married. I just don't spend as much time with him as I used to. I miss staying indoors and watching his stupid Avatar movies. And, God, I miss the sex so much."

The last bit caught me off guard and made me snort in laughter. Ew, sexually active Quinn Fabray was gross. But this was better than when she was with Puck. That was just grotesque.

"Hey think of it this way." I was going to catch her off guard with something completely out of nowhere and personal. I needed to be this way so Quinn could stop complaining about the one thing in her life that made happy. Shit. "If you weren't with Sam you'd probably be fixing cars every day with Puck."

Her face dropped and she stared me down with wide eyes. Yeah, that was a bulls eye.

"That's not funny Santana," she told me gravely.

I smiled even though it was a bit sadistic of me to find her reaction amusing. "I know it's not."

That got her worked up again. She went back to peeling potatoes while I swung my leg back and forth on the kitchen island.

But she wasn't done talking. "Puck and me are over, Santana," she muttered.

The smile was still on my face. "Thank God too. The two of you were on the verge of creating a new, undiscovered STD together." Puck was still my friend but that wouldn't stop me from talking trash about him.

"We're not talking about this Santana," she snapped. I wasn't finished though.

"He's still squeamish at the sound of your name. It's like his dick deflates every time you come up in conversation, it's ridiculous-"

"_We're not fucking talking about this Santana!_" Ooh, she used the F word.

I raised my hands up as if she was arresting me. "Whoa Lucy Quinn, calm yourself. Brittany's taking a nap, remember?" I laughed. Her face was turning into a very deep red, so I decided to drop the subject before she threw a potato at me.

Though I knew it wasn't fair to treat her like that. She was here helping me and Brittany when she didn't have to, she was being Mother Teresa to us.

But I guess old habits die hard.


	10. Mid December 2011

**So let me just apologize in advance for this chapter LOL. But um, yeah. Sorry. You'll see why *cough*.**

**Ahhh my first real attempt at girl-on-girl smut is here! I hope it's to your liking I just...I don't know I delved into a lot of smut fics as research, so hopefully it doesn't suck too bad. Lolz. Let me just stop talking and let you read oh God AHHHRGHRGRH. Enjoy!**

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><p>I didn't speak to Quinn for a whole month after our little altercation in the hallway, but I did see her at times in the hallway, her arm around Puck's and a cigarette in her hand. Every time they walked past me in the hall I would automatically have the urge to vomit right there on the spot. I always found everyone's relationships – except mine of course – gross, but there was something about Puck and Quinn that just didn't sit right with me. Sam and Quinn made more sense to me, even though they were vomit-worthy cute. With Puck and Quinn, it was more like watching two garbage bags fornicate in the backseat of a fifty-year-old pedophile's white van.<p>

Whatever. At least they were going strong. Kind of. Puck stayed in glee, but he always gave Sam dirty looks during meetings. I knew that was my fault, but the damage was done. I could care less as long as Quinn didn't open her mouth about me and Brittany.

We went on to win Sectionals – thanks to my flawless solo during a mash-up of Beyonce's Countdown and Adele's Set Fire to the Rain – and got to relax for the rest of December waiting around for Christmas break. It was a peaceful time for Brittany and me. She was doing well in school thanks to Stubbles, and we began to college hunt together.

New York was a dream of ours. Hell, just getting out of this shit hole of a town was a dream.

Brittany wanted to follow her passion of dance and go to Julliard, while I, as much as I loved to sing, was a bit more realistic with my choice in school and wanted to go to Cornell for a maybe a business or law degree. Both fields required me to be a bitch, and I would fit just well in on of them. Maybe I would be a prosecutor. I loved to prove bitches guilty. Or make them look guilty. Yeah.

Of course, as a back-up plan I chose colleges here in the state incase I got fucked over. Brittany didn't though, which concerned me. No matter how many times I nudged her to apply somewhere else, she would tell me, "If it's meant to happen, it'll happen". Since when did she get so fucking deep?

The last day of glee club before break was going by smoothly. Well, until Rachel Berry opened her mouth.

"I've decided to throw a party celebrating our win at Sectionals-"

"That's because of me," I interrupted.

She ignored what I said, even though it's true. I assured us all a win because of my talent, not hers.

"- and I've decided to honor all of you by inviting you."

Us? Honored? She should be honored that we were even letting her sit in this room.

I opened my mouth to reject her invite coldly, but Brittany, who was sitting close next to me, spoke before I got the chance.

"That sounds cool!"

Everyone looked at her, me included. Everyone except Rachel (and Finn, but I could care less about him) gave me a look that said "I get that you're stupid, but are you that stupid?" Brittany, being Brittany, didn't notice their stares and was instead looking at Rachel with a big grin on her face.

Rachel was obviously caught off-guard by her answer, because her mouth opened slightly as she tried to find words to say.

I loved Brittany, but didn't she know that a Rachel Berry party was just another term for suicide?

"I'm for it," Sam interjected. My first instinct was to look over at Puck who was sitting in the last seat of the second row, next to Mercedes. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

"I'm not. No thanks." Obviously he wasn't going because of Sam, which is great for him because he had an excuse. Thanks to Britt I was fucked because wherever she went I went, even if that meant having to go to the hobbit's shire.

"Yeah whatever," was my way of saying yes, which was good enough for Berry because she smiled at me. And when Santana Lopez accepted an invite to a super lame party like that, you either went along with her or questioned her logic.

In my case, it was the former, because soon enough everyone else in the club accepted her invitation.

"There better be booze at this party Berry. Or else I's will ends you," I threatened. She nodded and assured me there would be plenty of "alcoholic beverages" available, and that we wouldn't be disappointed.

But considering this was Rachel Berry we were talking about, that seemed very unlikely.

Our last glee club meeting of the year was over, and Brittany and me walked out of the choir room hand-in-hand. We were walking toward the girl's locker room where we had placed our coats and our bags.

My hand felt so right in hers. They were meant to be held. We were just meant to be.

"Should we drink before we arrive at her party so we're not sober enough to deal with how lame it is?" I breathed out. A Rachel Berry party was definitely something that needed large amounts of alcohol consumption before attendance.

Brittany chuckled and swung our hands back and forth. "Sannie, be nice."

I rolled my eyes. I understood that she was really nice – that was one of the things I loved most about her – but sometimes her kindness bordered on naivety. It was good to be ignorant of some things in the world, but there were times I wished that she could see what I saw. She was just lucky she was the only person I had any sort of patience with.

"I can't be nice Britt, she's so fucking annoying." Since she was a freshman, seriously. Out of all the glee club members, she was the one I had the most problems with, mainly because she was way more conceited than I was and just annoyed the shit out of me. Finn was a fucking moron for leaving Quinn for her, but at the same time they deserved each other because they were both so damn pathetic.

"It's just a party," Brittany told me, looking down at her white sneakers.

I sighed. "I know, just…if you want to go then fine. We'll make it fun." Probably more fun that Rachel could.

We walked into the locker room and walked to our lockers that were, of course, right next to each other. Forced to separate our hands, I got my locker combination in a second and opened it. Not much was in my locker, just my coat and lady essentials. All my decorations were back in my regular school locker.

"San?"

I took out my coat. "Yeah?" I closed my locker and turned my head to see what she wanted.

I froze as her head appeared just a couple of inches away from mine.

She hadn't even opened her locker, she just decided to sneak attack me. A smile was on her face as she looked down at me, making my heart jog around my chest. Why was she was close to me? And that smile…

She maneuvered around me, and like a magnet I turned as she moved. She had my back against my locker, and she leaned in so her knee was leaning against the locker next to the one below mine, while the other only leaned over slightly, our pelvises lightly touching each other. She supported herself by placing her hand on the solid red barrier next to my face, and her face moved so her lips were an inch away from my own.

Oh, okay.

I could feel the air enter and exit her nostrils, tickling my skin on impact. On my end, the air circulation in my lungs had stopped completely, and my brain was unable to send signals to tell them to bring in air that could be exhaled and not cause my premature death. The only two places my brain was successful in communicating with were my heart, which was doing the manual labor of illegal Mexican immigrants in my chest right now, and the area way down below the surface that was currently flooding my underwear with desire for the beautiful blonde in front of me.

I swallowed hard.

"Hi," came out of my mouth. "Hi"? What the fuck kind of response was that?

Brittany giggled, and more hot breath tickled my lips. "Hello there Miss Lopez."

The space between our lips was filled, her lips softly connecting with mine. My heart exploded and shot down my stomach, causing a second explosion that morphed into a million butterflies going haywire. I kissed her back, and we started off slow, sensual. No rush.

No rush until my body temperature shot up fifty degrees and my Cheerios uniform was practically melting against my skin.

We slipped our tongues in at the same time, by total accident, and retracted them after our small collision. We giggled into each other's mouths because of our mistake, and this time I slipped my tongue into her mouth first. She used her tongue to greet mine, brushing against it every time it entered her mouth, and I leaned further into the kiss to get more of it. I needed more of her.

To hell with my coat, I threw it somewhere to the side.

Brittany pressed the rest of her body into me, kneeling down slightly so our heated centers pressed directly into each other. I let out a staggered breath at the feeling of this, just this simple touch was enough to throw me into an abyss of everlasting pleasure that could either be torturous or life-fulfilling, depending on how pessimistic or optimistic one's view would be. Considering I've always been a pessimistic, a trait Brittany had never been fond of, I would find being suspended in such a whirlwind of pleasure that had no end a bad thing. Everything had to end, and for something like this the ending of the torture and the feeling of completion afterwards was the best part. Why the hell would I want to desire the end of it forever if it was never going to end?

"Britt," I gasped out. Our hands weren't being used, and that was bothering me. Body touching was nowhere good enough. "Please, before Quinn or someone else ends up cockblocking us, hurry the fuck up." Was cockblocking even the right word? Was there a female term for that? Cuntblocking?

Brittany didn't have to be told twice, because her hand flew down to the back of my skirt, pulling at the zipper, while her other hand slid to my breast and massaged it roughly. I moaned into her mouth, my hands placing themselves on her hips as a reflex. I needed her _closer_, if that was even possible. My hands went around her hips and linked together behind her so it was like I was hugging her close to me. Pulling her more into me was pushing her center into mine, and it made my clit ache at being teased so. We really needed to get with the program before I exploded.

Brittany undid my zipper and yanked at my skirt, which fell almost instantly and exposed my black lace thong. Brittany's hand landed on my side, and slid up toward the back of my back, but I turned my head to disconnect our lips to say something.

"No," I protested. "Forget the top." That would take too long. I needed her now.

Brittany silently obeyed by moved her hand to in between my legs, squeezing it and making me moan more. It definitely wasn't helping that she was still massaging my breast with her other hand, and my brain was shooting out so many chemicals that I feared I was going to explode and drop dead before I got the chance to orgasm. "Oh…"

Her lips attached to my neck, kissing the warm flesh roughly. All that was left for me to do was throw my head back and let her have control of everything, my mouth partially open to let out air as I lost the ability to breathe properly through my nostrils. Long, broken bits of air pushed out of my windpipe, which was followed by a few moans that shot out each time Brittany kneaded her hand into my sex.

"Brittany," I breathed out. The teasing outside the underwear had to stop, she needed to get the job done.

Brittany knew though, and her hand, which was probably already drenched because of the moisture that pushed itself through the fabric of my thong, slipped right into my underwear, my center feeling the palm of her hand in a flash. I forgot how to breathe for a few seconds as I tried to adjust to the feeling, but just knowing she was so close to getting the job done almost made my lungs explode.

"San," she whispered my name in my ear, her own way of telling me that I needed to spread my legs if this was going to work out.

I knew what to do and spread my legs a reasonable distance, just enough for it to be both comfortable and pleasurable for the both of us.

And, just like that, she slipped in one finger, causing a rather loud moan to fly out my mouth. She dug the finger in deep to the last knuckle, and I could feel it navigating its way around to find my G-Spot. One finger wasn't enough, she knew it wasn't, but before I could say anything she shocked my insides by slipping in another.

"Brittany," I moaned out. I was so close, but not close enough.

She sucked on my earlobe, a big turn-on for me, as she began to thrust in and out. Creating a rhythm, she grinded into the rest of my body, her thumb rubbing roughly against by clit. My moans became loud to the point where they echoed throughout the locker room, not even caring if anyone could hear us at this point. It was after school hours, no one would be around. Hopefully.

Right now, this was two people having a good time, becoming one with each other. What would that be called, a one-flesh union? Brittany and I were one person, whether we had sex or not. But right now was when our bond with each other strengthened, our love entering the air in the forms of moans and sweat that would never be shared with anyone else but us.

No one else knew that, but that didn't even matter, because as long as we knew that was all that mattered.

"Britt-" was the last thing I managed to choke out before the end. My muscles contracted, stars entered my vision and flew around the locker room in celebration, and I let out the moan to end all moans, just as Brittany let out her own. It was like a lovers' call, signaling the end to another great love session between the two of us, telling those around us – who was no one, really – that they could never break us, separate us.

We always looked more beautiful to each other when we were on a high. Brittany's hair looked shinier and more golden, her eyes such a brilliant blue that the lights in her eyes could signal a thousand boats in all the seven seas to their destination. Her skin was no longer pale in my eyes, but a beautiful porcelain color that shone under the dull lighting of the girls' locker room. She was a goddess, my goddess. And I'm sure I looked like one to her as well.

She took her fingers out of me and brought them to her lips, a smile on her face. I realized that I was able to breathe again, but in heavy pants from my orgasm. But it was an improvement from my brain being too null to doing anything about it minutes before. All I could so was just look with sexed-up eyes as Brittany opened her mouth and sucked my liquid off her fingers.

Jesus Christ.

She took her time too, staring into my beady eyes as her fingers went in and out of her mouth repeatedly. I wasn't sure if my body could handle another go at this, but watching her do that nearly made my mouth water and send tingly feelings to my already-tingling womanhood. Academics weren't her strong point but, but she was fucking amazing at everything else.

Finally she stopped the show and took her fingers out her mouth, licking her lips afterwards. She gave me her famous Pierce grin as she leaned in towards my face, our lips brushing along each other but not touching completely.

"How was that?" she asked me in a soft, sensual tone.

My eyes went to her lips, those beautiful thin lips I loved to kiss so much. Why was she so perfect?

"I love you," I told her with heavy breathe, a smile growing on my face. And I did, so much.

Brittany kissed my lips softly, her own way of saying that she loved me too.

One day she was going to be the death of me.

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><p>As planned, Brittany and I arrived at Rachel's with two cans of Budweiser in our systems.<p>

I wore a skin-tight super short long sleeved dark blue dress with a black leather vest trimmed with white faux fur on the collar and knee-high black leather boots with two-inch heels, my hair pushed back by a simple dark blue head band made just to match my dress. Brittany, who always lost track of what time of year it was, wore green capris with a short sleeve white frilly shirt and white flats, choosing to leave her hair loose and free. She came to my house wearing just that, so when it was time for us to drive over to Berry's house, I had her wear one of my coats. No girlfriend of mine was going to get pneumonia on my watch.

"Hi Brittany!" Rachel first greeted my secret girlfriend with a bright smile, a smile that weakened upon looking at my beautiful face. "Hello Santana."

Brittany opened her mouth to say hello back, but I interjected. "There better be booze here, Berry." I let myself in, grabbed Brittany by the hand and dragged her with me. By the sound of the Barbra Streisand song downstairs, the party must've been in her basement.

"There are alcoholic refreshments available downstairs," I heard Rachel say just as I started to walk downstairs toward her basement. "Help yourself!" By the sound of her hobbit feet she was obviously following us.

Thank God because I wasn't going to survive this with just two cans of Bud in my bloodstream.

Rachel's basement was at least appealing to the eye. Pretty modern, whatever. The only thing that bothered me was the retarded Barbra Streisand music. What was this, the Exodus?

Everyone else in the glee club, except Puck obviously, was here. Sam was with his jungle fever fling Jordin Sparks, Finn was hanging out with Stubbles, Priscilla Queen of the Desert, and Mr. and Mrs. Miyagi. The gang was all here, and, like me, were wondering who the fuck died and made Rachel queen of the music playlist.

"Go on," I told Brittany, separating our hands. "I have to do something about this music before I give Berry a proper nose job."

"Um, I'm right here," I heard her behind me.

"Right." I walked over to her rather expensive-looking stereo system and inspected it. For a lame extra on the set of Lord of the Rings she had some fancy shit in this house, maybe it was the whole having two gay dads thing or whatever. "Does this thing connect to an iPod?"

Rachel appeared next to me and nodded. "Yes there's a plug right there-"

I already found the plug so I didn't need her help with it. "Thanks." I pressed the eject button, the horrible Jewish girls' anthem stopping abruptly, took out the CD and shoved it into Berry's hands and hooked up my iPod to the stereo. Now we could have real music.

First to play from my playlist: LMFAO's "Sexy and I Know It".

Everyone at the party seemed to liven up, because I heard a couple of cheers. Yeah that's right, Santana Lopez was here to save the day from Frodo's twin sister.

"Hey Santana," Sam greeted me as I walked over and took off my coat. Brittany was sitting next to Mercedes and chatting it up, leaving me to distract Sam from his American Idol winner.

"'Sup Trout." Sam had a bottle of Stella Artois in his hand which he held out to me. "That's what I'm talking about." I grabbed the bottle, which was pre-opened because Trouty Mouth was so polite, and took a nice, long sip. Bubbly goodness streamed down my throat and made it burn slightly. Ah, yes. I placed the bottle between my legs to take something else out.

"Want a smoke?" I offered as I dug through my coat pocket, even though Sam's probably never smoked in his life. I took out a pack of Camel and held it up to him.

He raised an eyebrow, a look questioning my sanity, and shook his head. "No thanks."

I shrugged. "Your loss," I said as I took one out and pulled out a lighter from the same pocket.

Brittany saw this and she quickly popped her head out from behind Mercedes. "Santana!"

I stuck the cigarette in my mouth and gave her a look. "What?"

Brittany raised a finger and waved it as if I were a child doing something naughty. I rolled my eyes and took the cigarette out of my mouth.

"You suck," I groaned. Only she had the power to tell me what to do, and with the way she looked at me it just guilt me into not doing it. I shoved the cigarette back into the pack and put all my smoking essentials away. Damn it, I needed a fucking smoke.

The party wasn't too bad for a Rachel Berry party, but it could've just been all the drinking and laughing we did. Turned out that Rachel's parents were packing with the booze, all locked away in some secret wine cellar that Sam managed to break into, and all around drinks like vodka, gin, and beer from other countries were passed.

Alcohol's fun, after all.

"Who wants to play spin the bottle?" A very drunk Rachel yelled out. She was crazy, right? Most of the people here were in a relationship.

Everyone was hesitant to answer, but it was ultimately Sam who answered. "Uh, Rachel. Most of us have girlfriends and boyfriends. That's be like cheating."

Finn was the only one who was sober, being the lame-o he'd always been, and he sheepishly took a sip out of the red solo cup in his hands whilst sitting the corner.

Even though I was a bit tipsy, my brain reminded me of the girl I was in love with, and even I wasn't interested in the game. So I agreed with Sam without revealing that I too was taken. "Yeah Berry, Angelina Jolie's little brother is right. I wouldn't want to cause any guys here to break up with their girlfriends."

Rachel frowned. What, did she think I was after her man or something? Gross.

Mercedes and Tina were sitting on the floor beside the sober Finn, laughing at what must've been nothing. They were weird when they were drunk.

I wasn't completely drunk though. Usually when I was I would start crying and probably end up sobbing into someone's – that someone being Brittany – lap and confessing my love for a certain someone a million times. That wouldn't go very well right now since I wasn't out, so for once I was actually careful on my alcohol intake. And I had to monitor Brittany's as well because she loved to take off her clothes when she was hammered.

Speaking of Brittany, where was she? I sat with Sam on the homemade stage that Rachel had in her basement, looking around. I couldn't find Brittany anywhere. Weird.

I rested my head on Sam's shoulder, something I would never do if I was one hundred percent sober. As long as I didn't end up sobbing I would be fine.

"Oh Sammy," I sighed out. "Even with these five Stellas and ten shots in my system, I still think you and Aretha Franklin are a horrible match together."

Sam's cheeks were painted with a pink hue that proved he was drunker than me, his eyes partially open and a dumb smile glazed over his face. Who the hell was going to drive him home after this was the question. Maybe Finnocence.

"I know."

Did he just…what?

I lifted my head from his shoulder and looked at up, eyebrows pressed closely together in an incredulous look. Was I drunk or did he seriously just say that? "What?"

Sam's eyes were moist. I wasn't sure if that was from being piss drunk or he was on the verge of tears. I was alerted, definitely, and I leaned closer to him to sort this out. "Sam, what?"

"I love Quinn, Santana," he told me quietly so Mercedes wouldn't hear him. She was too busy laughing like a hyena with Tina on the other side of the basement anyway, she wouldn't notice. But I still couldn't believe he was telling me this, what happened to liking Mercedes?

"Sam-"

"I'm pathetic, I know." He wiped his eyes before he got the chance to start crying. "I know she dumped me. But…I like Mercedes. A lot. She's a good person, I just…"

He took a deep breathe. He was fighting really hard not to break down.

I couldn't let him speak like this anymore. I did a very un-Santana thing and pulled him in for a hug, my face resting in his shaggy golden hair. His hair then reminded me of Brittany, and how she was completely absent from the party. My eyes scanned the room, my face still in Sam's hair, as I looked for my love. And, now that I thought about it, Stubbles as well because it took me until just now to notice that he wasn't around either.

Brittany and Artie weren't here. The Brittany and Artie that dated all of last year.

What the fuck.

Then the door to the wine cellar caught my eye. The door was ajar, when it was wide open before after we ransacked the inside for booze. Gee, I wonder why.

"Trout, I have to abandon you for like two seconds," I told him, releasing him from my grasp and getting up. It was Detective Lopez time.

"Okay," he muttered, and I left him for the wine cellar. If there wasn't a good reason for why those two were alone, I was going to blow a fuse.

I stood by the door, afraid to open it because I had no idea what I was going to find inside. But I could hear voice well enough, the mix of loud music and alcohol not impairing my sense of hearing. And it was Artie speaking.

"…please Brittany."

Please what? I clenched my fists to keep myself from barging in and knocking those telescopes off Kermit's face.

Brittany spoke next. I would recognize that angelic voice from anywhere.

"Artie, I love Santana." Of course she did, why wouldn't she?

"You told me you loved me last year, too. You can't tell me you easily pushed that aside." Uh, yeah she can.

"I know."

Wait, what?

"So then? Can't you see she just manipulates you all the time? She's always manipulated you! That's not love Britt. People who love each other don't do that."

"Yeah well, people who love each other don't insul-"

"I made one mistake, Brittany. One. And you broke up with me over that one mistake. And I'm sorry. I've been sorry since I first said it. I was just really upset, I didn't mean to call you that."

Silence. The only thing I could hear was the drums in my head from the anger that built up in my stomach. What the hell kind of conversation was this?

"Artie," Brittany broke the silence and the drums subsided to let me hear. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't have feelings for you, honest. But things happen for a reason. We just weren't meant to be."

My heart suffocated.

"You're not looking at me when you say that Brittany. Look me in the eye and tell me that."

More silence. And this time the silence lasted a long time.

Too long.

_Move Santana!_

My hand wrapped around the bronze handle, choking the life out of it as if it was in a wheelchair and wearing glasses. I pulled as hard as I could, and the door willingly flew itself open at my touch. I didn't give the two any kind of warning, not even a battle cry for when I-

For when I saw Brittany on both knees to be on Stubbles' level, her face completely in his and her lips frozen against…she was…

Artie was kissing Brittany. Brittany was kissing Artie.

My universe flipped upside down. There was a shattering sound that echoed into my ears and throughout the rest of the world. My chest combusted, the debris of my heart dripping in my insides. My arms hung lifelessly against my sides, losing the life to move them ever again. The knives of betrayal that Brittany threw at me dug straight into my hollow chest with a force so powerful I had to step back to endure it.

The woman I loved was kissing someone else.

What was I to say? I stood there silently, watching them. Neither moved, not even their lips. They were statues. Cold, heartless statues. And I tortured myself by looking at them.

I watched as sense came back to Brittany. Her eyes opened and looked directly at me.

Even when revealed as a traitor, those eyes still shone.

Seeing me, knowing that she'd been caught, she immediately separated herself from Artie and looked at me with her mouth partially open. Artie gave Brittany a confused look, but when he followed her line of sight his eyes fell upon my face. Instead of a surprised look, his lips formed a straight line. He basically told me silently, "Yeah, I kissed your woman. So what?"

I didn't care about fucking Stubbles, though. My eyes were locked on Brittany's face. The face of betrayal and guilt. More knives stabbed into my chest.

"San…" was what gave me the will to move.

I turned on my heel away from them and back out into the party. I had no urge to cry, nor to scream or kill something. Well, okay I wanted to kill Stubbles for fucking me over in the end, but I wasn't going to make a scene here. Making a scene would just reveal my secrets to everyone.

I forced a smile on my face as I looked at the partygoers who were all in their own little conversations. I threw my hands up into the air, acting like I was the happiest person in the world.

"Hey guys!" I caught their attention. Several pairs of eyes looked my way.

From the corner of my eye I could see Brittany walking out of the wine cellar, probably to try and convince me that it wasn't what it looked like or whatever. But I was tired of talking.

"Britts and Artie are finally back together! Isn't that great?" So much sarcasm in my voice. Venomous, biting sarcasm that could only be seen by those who had betrayed me. To everyone else it was a true face of happiness.

Everyone raised their glass – or cup, rather – and cheered on the new happy couple. Awesome.

I walked over to my coat and picked it up. I was leaving. It was too painful to be here. The knives were causing love to bleed out of my chest, and I had to get home before I ended up dying of the loss of emotion. I erased Brittany and Artie from my vision, seeing it fit to just not thinking about them even though they were in the same room. I couldn't. It hurt too much.

"You're leaving?" Sam walked up to me and blinked.

"Yep. Need a ride?" I put my coat on.

Sam shook his head. "Finn's driving me."

"Cool. Night Sam." I turned toward the staircase, not wanting to say goodbye to anyone else, and saw Brittany still standing by the door of the wine cellar, Artie at her side. Gross.

At least my bleeding chest bled out all my tipsiness.

I headed up toward the stairs, not saying a word to Brittany because I was sure her new boyfriend would give her a ride home. She wasn't my responsibility anymore.

My hand turned the knob, but before I could open the door I heard a voice behind me.

"San, wait!" Brittany.

Seppuku to my chest.

But I said nothing. I opened the door and walked out.

Brittany followed me, not caring about the cool night air. "San, please wait!"

She grabbed my hand, which just shot tiny daggers up the nerves in my arm. It hurt for her to touch me, I didn't want her to touch me. The force made me stop walking, but I didn't dare turn around to look at her.

"That wasn't what it looked like."

Exactly what I thought she would say.

"You still have feelings for him." It wasn't a question. "You'd be lying to him if you said you didn't, right?"

Her grip on me tightened, and so did my heart.

"San I…I love you more."

She wasn't denying that she still loved him.

"Don't be _stupid_, Brittany," I hissed. Now I was saying things to hurt her. "You can't love two people at the same time. And as I recall you made your choice five minutes ago." I yanked my hand away from her, still refusing to look in her direction.

She was silent now. Good. I'm sure the stupid remark shut her up.

I had nothing else left to say. I left her in the cool December air, not looking back as I entered my car and drove off.

It wasn't until I got home that night, and entered the safe haven that was my room, that I finally decided to break down and cry myself to sleep.

The hardest I'd ever cried in my life.


End file.
